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PARIS AND ITS STORY

Rue St. Amtoine.

PARIS

AND ITS STORY

T. OKEY

ILLUSTRATED BY
KATHERINE KIMBALL

& O. F. M. WARD

1904
LONDON : J. M. DENT & CO.

NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.

DC
1°1

641482

" I will not here omit, that I never rail so much against France as to be
out of humour with Paris ; that city has ever had my heart from my
infancy ; and it has fallen out to me, as of excellent things, that the more
of other fine cities I have seen since, the more the beauty of this gains
upon my affections. I love it for its own sake, and more for its own
native being than the addition of foreign pomp ; I love it tenderly even
with all its warts and blemishes. I am not a Frenchman but by this great
city great in people, great in the felicity or her situation, but above all
great and incomparable in variety and diversity of commodities ; the
glory of France and one of the most noble ornaments of the world."

Montaigne.

" Quand Dieu eslut nonante et dix royaumes
Tot le meillor torna en douce France."

COURONNEMENT LoYS.

PREFACE

The History of Paris, says Michelet, is the history of the
French monarchy. The aim of the writer in the following
pages has been to narrate the story of the capital city of
France on the lines thus indicated, dwelling, however, in the
earlier chapters rather more on its legendary aspect than
perhaps an austere historical conscience would approve.
But it is precisely a familiarity with these romantic stories,
which at least are true in impression if not in fact, that the
sojourner in Paris will find most useful, translated as they,
are in sculpture and in painting on the decoration of her
architecture both modern and ancient, and implicit in the
nomenclature of her ways. Within the limits of time and
space allotted for the work no more than an imperfect out-
line of a vast subject has been possible. The writer has
essayed to compose a story of, not a guide to, Paris.
Those who desire the latter may be referred to the excellent
manuals of Murray, Baedeker and of Grant Allen — the last
named being an admirable companion for the artistically-
minded traveller. In controversial matter, such, for instance,
as the position of the ancient Grand Pont, the writer has
adopted the opinions of the most recent authorities.

The story of Paris presents a marked contrast with that
of an Italian city-state whose rise, culmination and fall may
be roundly traced. Paris is yet in the stage of lusty growth.
Time after time, like a young giantess, she has burst ner

vi PREFACE

cincture of walls, cast off her outworn garments and re-
newed her armour and vesture. Hers are no grass-grown
squares and deserted streets ; no ruined splendours telling
of pride abased and glory departed ; no sad memories of
waning cities once the mistresses of sea and land ; none of
the tears evoked by a great historic tragedy ; none of the
solemn pathos of decay and death. Paris has more than
once tasted the bitterness of humiliation ; Norseman,
and Briton, Russian and German have bruised her fair body ;
the dire distress of civic strife has exhausted her strength, but
she has always emerged from her trials with marvellous
recuperation, more flourishing than before.

Since 1871, when the city, crushed under a twofold
calamity of foreign invasion and of internecine war, seemed
doomed to bleed away to feeble insignificance, her
prosperity has so increased that house rent has doubled
and population risen from 1,825,274 in 1870 to
2,714,068 in 1 90 1. The growth of Paris from the settle-
ment of an obscure Gallic tribe to the most populous, the
most cultured, the most artistic, the most delightful and
seductive of continental cities has been prodigious, yet
withal she has maintained her essential unity, her corporate
sense and peculiar individuality. Paris, unlike London, has
never expatiated to the effacement of her distinctive
features and the loss of civic consciousness. The city has
still a definite outline and circumference, and over her gates
to-day one may read, Entree de Paris. The Parisian is, and
always has been, conscious of his citizenship, proud of his
city, careful of her beauty, jealous of her reputation. The
essentials of Parisian life remain unchanged since mediaeval

PREFACE

times. Busy multitudes of alert, eager burgesses crowd her
streets ; ten thousand students stream from the provinces,
from Europe, and even from the uttermost parts of the
earth, to eat of the bread of knowledge at her University.
The old collegiate life is gone, but the arts and sciences are
freely taught as of old to all comers ; and a lowly peasant
lad may carry in his satchel a prime minister's portfolio or
the insigna of a president of the republic, even as his mediaeval
prototype bore a bishop's mitre or a cardinal's hat. The
boisterous exuberance of youthful spirits still vents itself in
rowdy student life to the scandal of bourgeois placidity, and
the poignant self-revelation and gnawing self-reproach of a
Francois Villon find their analogue in the pathetic verse of a
Paul Verlaine. Beneath the fair and ordered surface of the
normal life of Paris still sleep the fiery passions which,
from the days of the Maillotins to those of the Commune,
have throughout the crisis of her history ensanguined her
streets with the blood of citizens.1 Let us remember, how-
ever, when contrasting the modern history of Paris with
that of London, that the questions which have stirred her
citizens have been not party but dynastic ones, often com-
plicated and embittered by social and religious principles
ploughing deep in the human soul, for which men have
cared enough to suffer, and to inflict, death.

Those writers who are pleased to trace the permanency of
racial traits through the life of a people dwell with satisfac-
tion on passages in ancient authors who describe the Gauls

1 " Faudra recommencer" (" We must begin again "), said, to the present
writer in 1871, a Communist refugee bearing a great scar on his face from
a wound received fighting at the barricades.

Vlll

PREFACE

as quick to champion the cause of the oppressed, prone to
war, elated by victory, impatient of defeat, easily amenable
to the arts of peace, responsive to intellectual culture ;
terrible, indefatigable orators but bad listeners, so intolerant
of their speakers that at tribal gatherings an official charged
to maintain silence would march, sword in hand,v towards
an interrupter, and after a third warning cut off a portion
of his dress. If the concurrent testimony of writers,
ancient, mediaeval and modern, be of any worth, Gallic
vanity is beyond dispute. Dante, expressing the prevailing
belief of his age, exclaims, " Now, was there ever people so
vain as the Sienese ! Certes not the French by far." L
Of their imperturbable gaiety and the avidity for new
things we have ample testimony, and the course of this
story will demonstrate that France, and more especially
Paris, has ever been, from the establishment of Christianity
to the birth of the modern world at the Revolution, the
parent or the fosterer of ideas, the creator of arts, the
soldier of the ideal. She has always evinced a wondrous
preventive apprehension of coming changes. The earliest
of the western people beyond Rome to adopt Christianity,
she had established a monastery near Tours a century and a
half before St. Benedict, the founder of Western monasticism,
had organised his first community at Subiaco. In the
Middle Ages Paris became the intellectual light of the
Christian world. From the time of the centralisation of the

1 Inf. XXIX. 121-123. A French commentator consoles himself
by reflecting that the author of the Divina Commedia is far more
vituperative when dealing with certain Italian peoples, whom he
designates as hogs, curs, wolves and foxes.

PREFACE

monarchy at Paris she absorbed in large measure the vital
forces of the nation, and all that was greatest in art, science
and literature was drawn within her walls until, in the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, she became the centre
of learning, taste and culture in Europe.1 During the first
Empire and the Restoration, after the tempest was stilled
and the great heritage of the Revolution taken possession
of, an amazing outburst of scientific, artistic and literary
activity made Paris the Ville Lumiere of Europe.

Paris is still the city in Europe where the things
of the mind and of taste have most place, where the wheels
of life run most smoothly and pleasantly, where the graces
and refinements and amenities of social existence, Vart des
plaisirs Jinsy are most highly developed and most widely
diffused. There is something in the crisp, luminous air
of Paris that quickens the intelligence and stimulates the
senses. Even the scent of the wood fires as one emerges
from the railway station exhilarates the spirit. The poet
Heine used to declare that the traveller could estimate his
proximity to Paris by noting the increasing intelligence of
the people, and that the very bayonets of the soldiers were
more intelligent than those elsewhere. Life, even in its
more sensuous and material phases, is less gross and
coarse,2 its pleasures more refined than in London. It is

JCobbett, comparing the relative intellectual culture of the British
Isles and of France between the years 1600 and 1787, found that of
the writers on the arts and sciences who were distinguished by a place in
the Universal, Historical, Critical and Bibliographical Dictionary one
hundred and thirty belonged to England, Scotland and Ireland, and six
hundred and seventy-six to France.

2 "Nous cuisinons meme ramour." — Taine.

x PREFACE

impossible to conceive the pit of a London theatre stirred
to fury by a misplaced adjective in a poetical drama, or to
imagine anything comparable to the attitude of a Parisian
audience at the cheap holiday performances at the Frangais
or the Odeon, where the severe classic tragedies of Racine,
of Corneille, of Victor Hugo, or the well-worn comedies of
Moliere or of Beaumarchais are played with small lure of
stage upholstery, and listened to with close attention by a
popular audience responsive to the exquisite rhythm and
grace of phrasing, the delicate and restrained tragic pathos,
and the subtle comedy of their great dramatists. To
witness a premiere at the Frangais is an intellectual feast.
The brilliant house ; the pit and stalls filled with black-
coated critics ; the quick apprehension of the points and
happy phrases ; the universal and excited discussion
between the acts ; the atmosphere of keen and alert
intelligence pervading the whole assembly ; the quaint
survival of the time-honoured u overture " — three knocks
on the boards — dating back to Roman times when
the Prologus of the comedy stepped forth and craved
the attention of the audience by three taps of his
wand ; the chief actor's approach to the front of the stage
after the play is ended to announce to Mesdames and
Messieurs what in these days they have known for
weeks before from the press, that " the piece we have had
the honour of playing " is by such a one — all combine to
make an indelible impression on the mind of the foreign
spectator.

The Parisian is the most orderly and well-behaved of
citizens. The custom of the queue is a spontaneous ex-

PREFACE xi

pression of his love of fairness and order. Even the
applause in theatres is organised. A spectacle such as
that witnessed at the funeral of Victor Hugo in 1885, the
most solemn and impressive of modern times, is inconceiv-
able in London. The whole population (except the
Faubourg St. Germain and the clergy) from the poorest
labourer to the heads of the State issued forth to file past
the coffin of their darling poet, lifted up under the Arc de
Triomphe, and by their multitudinous presence honoured his
remains borne on a poor bare hearse to their last resting-place
in the Pantheon. Amid this vast crowd, mainly composed
of labourers, mechanics and the petite bourgeoisie, assembled
to do homage to the memory of the poet of democracy,
scarcely an agent was seen ; the people were their own police,
and not a rough gesture, not a trace of disorder marred the
sublime scene. The Parisian democracy is the most
enlightened and the most advanced in Europe, and it
is to Paris that, the dearest hopes and deepest sympathies
of generous spirits will ever go forth in

" The struggle, and the daring rage divine for liberty,
Of aspirations toward the far ideal, enthusiast dreams of brother-
hood."

It now remains for the writer to acknowledge his in-
debtedness to the following among other authorities, which
are here enumerated to obviate the necessity for the use of
repeated footnotes, and to indicate to readers who may
desire to pursue the study of the history of Paris in more
detail, some works among the enormous mass of literature
on the subject that will repay perusal.

xii PREFACE

For the general history of France the monumental
Histoire de France now in course of publication, edited by
E. Lavisse ; Michelet's Histoire de France, Recits de T Histoire
de France, and Proces des Templiers ; Victor Duruy,
Histoire de France ; Histoire de France racontee -par les Con-
temporains, edited by B. Zeller ; Carl Faulmann, Illustrirte
Geschichte der Buchdruckerkunst ; the Chronicles of Gregory
of Tours, Richer, Abbo, Joinville, Villani, Froissart,
Antonio Morosini ; De Comines ; Geographie Historique,
by A. Guerard ; Froude's essay on the Templars ; Jeanne
d'Arc, Maid of Orleans, by T. Douglas Murray ; Paris
sous Philip le Bel, edited by H. Geraud.

For the later Monarchy, the Revolutionary and Napoleonic
periods, the Histories of Carlyle, Mignet, Micheletand Louis
Blanc ; the Origines de la France Contemporaine, by Taine ;
the Cambridge Modern History, Vol. VIII. ; the Memoirs of
the Due de St. Simon, of Madame Campan, Madame
Vigee-Lebrun, of Camille Desmoulins, Madame Roland,
Paul Louis Courier ; the Journal de Perlet ; Histoire de la
Societe1 Frangaise pendant la Revolution, by J. de Goncourt ;
Goethe's Die Campagne in Frankreich, 1792 ; Legendes et
Archives de la Bastille, by F. Funck Brentano ; Life or
Napoleon I., by J. Holland Rose ; V Europe et la Revolution
Franfaise by Albert Sorel ; Contemporary American Opinion
of the French Revolution, by C. D. Hazen. For the par-
ticular history of Paris, the exhaustive and comprehensive
Histoire de la Ville de Paris, by the learned Benedictine
priests, Michel Felibien and Guy Alexis Lobineau ; the so-
called Journal d un Bourgeois de Paris, edited by L. Lalanne ;
Paris Pendant la Domination Anglaise, by A, Longnon ; the

PREFACE

xin

more modern Paris a Tr avers les Ages, by M. F. HofFbauer,
E. Fournier and others ; the Topographie Historique du Vieux
Paris, by A. Berty and H. Legrand. Howell's Familiar
Letters, Coryat's Crudities, and Evelyn's Diary, contain useful
matter. For the chapters on Historical Paris, E. Fournier's
Promenade Historique dans Paris, Chronique des Rues de Paris,
Enigmes des Rues des Paris ; the Marquis de Rochegude's
Guide Pratique a Travers le Vieux Paris, and the excellent
Nouvel Itindraire Guide Artistique et Archeologique de Paris,
by C. Normand, now appearing in fascicules published by the
Societe des Amis des Monuments Parisiens, have been largely
drawn upon and supplemented by affectionate memories of
an acquaintance with the city dating back for more than
thirty years, and by notes of pilgrimages, under the guidance
of a member of the Positivist Society of Paris, made in
1 89 1 through revolutionary Paris and Versailles.

For personal help and information the writer desires to
express his obligations to Monsieur Lafenestre, Director of
the Louvre : Monsieur L. Benedite, Director of the
Luxembourg ; Monsieur G. Redon, architect of the Louvre
and the Tuileries ; Professor A. Legros ; and for help in
proof-reading to Mr James Britten.

Gallo-Roman Paris

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II

The Barbarian Invasions — St. Genevieve — The Conversion

of Clovis — The Merovingian Dynasty . . .12

CHAPTER III

The Carlovingians — The Great Siege of Paris by the

Normans — the Germs of Feudalism . . .29

CHAPTER IV

The Rise of the Capetian Kings and the Growth of Paris 45

CHAPTER V
Paris under Philip Augustus and St. Louis . . .61

CHAPTER VI
Art and Learning at Paris . . . . .79

CHAPTER VII

The Parlement — The States-General — Conflict with
Boniface VIII. — The Destruction of the Knights-
Templars . . . . . . .103

xvi CONTENTS

CHAPTER VIII

PAGE

Etienne Marcel — The English Invasions — The Maillotins
— Murder of the Duke of Orleans — Armagnacs and
burgundians . . . . . i i 7

CHAPTER IX

Jeanne d'Arc — Paris under the English — End of the English

Occupation . . . . . .131

CHAPTER X
Louis XI. at Paris — The Introduction of Printing . .138

CHAPTER XI
Francis I. — The Renaissance at Paris . . . 145

CHAPTER XII

Rise of the Guises — Huguenot and Catholic — The Massacre

of St. Bartholomew . . . . .161

CHAPTER XIII

Henry III. — The League — Siege of Paris by Henry IV. — His

Conversion, Reign, and Assassination . . .175

CHAPTER XIV
Paris under Richelieu and Mazarin .... 192

CHAPTER XV

The Grand Monarque — Versailles and Paris . . 209

CHAPTER XVI

Paris under the Regency and Louis XV. — The Brooding

Storm . . . . . . .227

CONTENTS xvii

CHAPTER XVII

PAGE

Louis XVI. — The Great Revolution — Fall of the Monarchy 243

CHAPTER XVIII

Execution of the King — Paris under the First Republic — The

Terror — Napoleon — Revolutionary and Modern Paris . 259

CHAPTER XIX

Historical Paris — The Cite — The University Quarter —
The Ville — The Louvre — The Place de la Concorde
— The Boulevards . . . . .28 c

CHAPTER XX

The Comedie Francaise — The Opera — Some Famous Cafes —

Conclusion . . . . . . .321

Index . . . . . . . -339

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

LIST OF COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS

BY O. F. M. WARD

Rue St. Antoine

Point du Jour

Roman Baths in Musee de Cluny

Bois de Boulogne — Lac Superieur

Rue St. Jacques

St. Julien le Pauvre

Port des Ormes

L'Institut de France

Hotel Gerouilhac .

Sf. Etienne du Mont and Tour de Clovis

VlNCENNES

Rue de Venise

La Sainte Chapelle .

The Seine from Pont da la Concorde

Le Petit Pont

Ile de la Cite

The Seine at Alfortville .

On the Quai des Grands Augustin

Notre Dame from the North

Porch of St. Germain l'Auxerrois

Rue Royale .

Boulevard St. Michel

Luxembourg Gardens

The Louvre — Galerie d'Apollon

St. Gervais .

Luxembourg Palace .

Place des Vosges

xviii

Frontispiece

facing page

♦»

1 1

• i

100

109

117

124

'.1

132

141

146

J55

165

172

178

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

xix

Pont St. Michel

Pont Neuf .

Notre Dame .

Place du Carrousel .

Versailles — Le Tapis Vert .

Grand Palais and Pont Alexandre

Hotel des Invalides .

colonne vendome

Place du Chatelet and Tour St. Jacques

Mont S. Genevieve from lTle S. Louis

St. Sulpice ....

MONTMARTRE FROM BuTTES ChaMONT.

Place de la Concorde

Eiffel Tower

Arc de Triomphe, Place du Carrousel

Rue Drouot and Sacre Cceur

The Observatory

The Louvre from the South-East .

St. Eustache

The Trocadero

Arc de Triomphe — Place de l'Etoile

In the Garden of the Tuileries

facing

page

191

194

207

211

214

219

222

230

235

238

241

251

256

261

268

278

287

293

300

327

33o

334

REPRODUCTIONS OF PAINTINGS AND
SCULPTURE

Thirteenth Century Sculptures from St. Denis
(Restored) .....

Our Lady of Paris. Early Fifteenth Century

Portrait of Francis I. Jean Clouet

Tritons and Nereids from the Old Fontaine des
Innocents. Jean Goujon

Portrait of Elizabeth of Austria, Wife of
Charles IX. Francois Clouet

84
136

150

166
168

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Catherine de' Medici. French School, Sixteenth
Century .....

Portion of the East Facade of the Louvre
From Blondel's Drawing, showing Perrault':
Base. (Reproduced by permission of 'M. Lampue)

Winged Victory of Samothrace

St. George and the Dragon. Michel Colombe

Cardinal Virtues. Germain Pilon

Diana and the Stag. Jean Goujon

The Burning Bush. Nicolas Froment

Triptych of Moulins. Le MaItre de Moulins

Juvenal des Ursins. Fouquet

Shepherds of Arcady. Poussin

A Seaport. Claude Lorrain

Landing of Cleopatra at Tarsus. Claude Lorrain

The Embarkation for the Island of Cythera
Watteau ....

Grace before Meat. Chardin

Madame Recamier. David .

Landscape. Corot ....

llctors bringing to brutus the bodies of his sons
David .....

The Pond. Rousseau

The Binders. Millet

facing page I 7 6

220
302
302
3°4

304
306
308
308
310
312
312

3H
316
316

3i8

320
322
324

The majority of the photographs of sculpture have been taken by Messrs.
Haweis & Coles, while most of the other photographs are reproduced by per-
mission of Messrs. Giraudon.

LINE ILLUSTRATIONS

BY KATHARINE KIMBALL

The Cite

Remains of Roman Amphitheatre

Tower of Clovis

St. Germain des Pres

St. Julien le Pauvre

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

xxi

St. Germain l'Auxerrois

Wall of Philippe Auguste, Cour de Rouen

La Sainte Chapelle

Refectory of the Cordeliers .

Cathedral of St. Denis

Notre Dame : Portal of St. Anne

Notre Dame — Southern Side .

Notre Dame and Petit Pont .

Tower in Rue Navarre in which Calvin is said to hav

Lived ....

Hotel of the Provost of Paris
Palais de Justice, Clock Tower and Concierg
Palace of the Archbishop of Sens
Chapel of Fort Vincennes
Tower at the Corner of the Rue Vieille du Tem

the Rue Barbette .
Tower of Jean Sans Peur
Cloister of the Billetes, Fifteenth Century,

l'Homme Arme
Tower of St. Jacques .
Pont Notre Dame

Chapel, Hotel de Cluny . .

West Door of St. Merri
Tower of St. Etienne du Mont
La Fontaine des Innocents
West Wing of Louvre by Pierre Lescot
Petite Galerie of the Louvre
Hotel de Sully
Place des Vosges
Old Houses near Pont St. Michel, showing Spire

Ste. Chapelle
The Medici Fountain, Luxembourg Gardens
Pont Neuf ....

The Institut de France
River and Pont Royal .

PLE AND

Rue

OF THE

39
64

74
80

94
96

105

122

126

128

i35

l47
149

152

153
161
163

174
183

188

190
196
198
208
225

XX11

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

South Door of Notre Dame ....

Interior of St. Etienne du Mont

Hotel de Ville from River ....

Notre Dame, South Side .....

St. Severin ......

Tower and Courtyard of Hotel Cluny

Old Academy of Medicine ....

Cour du Dragon .....

St. Gervais ......

Place des Vosges, Maison de Victor Hugo
Archives Nationales in Hotel Soubise, showing Towers of
Hotel de Clisson .....

Near the Pont Neuf .....

Arches in the Courtyard of the Hotel Cluny

The majority of the three-colour^ half-tone and line blocks used in this book
have been made by the Graphic Photo- Engraving Co., London.

I'AGE

237

239
279

282
285
287
289
292
294
296

298

303
322

LIST OF MAPS

Plan of the Historic Louvre from Blondel's Drawing . xxiii

Map of the successive Walls of Paris . . . xxiv
Plan of Paris when Besieged by Henry IV. in 1590,

facing page 175

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PARIS AND ITS STORY

CHAPTER I

GALLO-ROMAN PARIS

The mediaeval scribe in the fulness of a divinely-revealed
cosmogony is wont to begin his story at the creation of
the world or at the confusion of tongues, to trace the
building of Troy by the descendants of Japheth, and the
foundation of his own native city by one of the Trojan
princes made a fugitive in Europe by proud Ilion's fall.
Such, he was very sure, was the origin of Padua, founded
by Antenor and by Priam, son of King Priam, whose
grandson, yet another Priam, by his great valour and
wisdom became the monarch of a mighty people, called
from their fair hair, Galli or Gallici. And of the strong
city built on the little island in the Seine who could have
been its founder but the ravisher of fair Helen — Sir Paris
himself? The naive etymology of the time was evidence
enough.

But the modern writer, as he compares the geographical
position of the capitals of Europe, is tempted to exclaim,
Cherchez le marchand ! for he perceives that their unknown
founders were dominated by two considerations — facilities
for commerce and protection from enemies : and before
the era of the Roman roadmakers, commerce meant facilities
for water carriage. As the early settlers in Britain sailed up
the Thames, they must have observed, where the river's
bed begins somewhat to narrow, a hill rising from the con-

PARIS AND ITS STORY

tinuous expanse of marshes from its mouth, easily defended
on the east and west by those fortified posts which, in subse-
quent times, became the Tower of London and Barnard's
Castle. If we scan a map of France, we shall see that the
group of islands on and around which Paris now stands,
lies in the fruitful basin of the Seine, known as the Isle de
France, near the convergence of three rivers ; for on the
east the Marne and the Oise, and on the south the Yonne,
discharge their waters into the main stream on its way to the
sea. In ancient times the great line of Phoenician, Greek
and Roman commerce followed northwards the valleys of
the Rhone and of the Saone, whose upper waters are
divided from those of the Yonne only by the plateau oi
Dijon and the calcareous slopes of Burgundy. The Parisii
were thus admirably placed for tapping the profitable com-
merce of north-west Europe, and by the waters of the Eure,
lower down the Seine, were able to touch the fertile valle]
of the Loire. The northern rivers of Gaul were all
navigable by the small boats of the early traders, and, in
contrast with the impetuous sweep of the Rhone and the
Loire in the south and west, flowed with slow and measured
stream : ■ they were rarely flooded, and owing to the
normally mild winters, still more rarely blocked by ice.
Moreover, the Parisian settlement stood near the rich corn-
land of La Beauce, and to the north-east, over the open
plain of La Valois, lay the way to Flanders. It was one of
the river stations on the line of the Phoenician traders in
tin, that most precious and rare of ancient metals, betweei
Marseilles and Britain, and in the early Middle Ages became,
with Lyons and Beaucaire, one of the chief fairs of that
historic trade route which the main lines of railway traffic
still follow to-day. The island now known as the Cite,
which the founders of Paris chose for their stronghold, was
the largest of the group which lay involved in the many

1 The Seine takes five hours to flow through the seven miles o
modern Paris.

GALLO-ROMAN PARIS 3

windings of the Seine, and was embraced by a natural rnoat
of deep waters. To north and south lay hills, marshes and
forests, and all combined to give it a position equally
adapted for defence and for commerce.

The Parisii were a small tribe of Gauls who were
content to place themselves under the protection of the

THE CITE.

more powerful Senones. Their island city was the home of
a prosperous community of shipmen and merchants, but it
is not until the Conquest of Gaul by the Romans that
Lutetia, for such was its Gallic name, enters the great
pageant of written history. It was —

" Armed Caesar falcon-eyed," x

who saw its great military importance, built a permanent
camp there and made it a central entrepot for food and

1 " Cesar e armato con g/i occhi grifani." — Inferno, iv. 123.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

munitions of war. And when in 52 b.c. the general rising
of the tribes under Vercingetorix threatened to scour the
Romans out of Gaul and to destroy the whole fabric of
Caesar's ambition, he sent his favourite lieutenant, Labienus,
to seize Lutetia where the Northern army of the Gauls
was centred. Labienus crossed the Seine at Melun, fixed
his camp on a spot near the position of the church of St.
Germain TAuxerrois, and began the first of the historic
sieges for which Paris is so famous. But the Gaulish com-
mander burnt the bridges, fired the city and took up his
position on the slopes of the hill of Lutetius (St. Genevieve)
in the south, and aimed at crushing his enemy between his
own forces and an army advancing from the north.
Labienus having learnt that Caesar was in a tight place, owing
to a check at Clermont and the defection of the Eduans,
by a masterly piece of engineering recrossed the Seine
by night at the Point du Jour, and when the Gauls awoke
in the morning they beheld the Roman legions in battle
array on the plain of Grenelle beneath. They made a
desperate attempt to drive them against the river, but they
lost their leader and were almost annihilated by the superior
arms and strategy of the Romans. Labienus was able to
join his master at Sens, and the irrevocable subjugation of
the Gauls soon followed. With the tolerant and enlightened
conquerors came the Roman peace, Roman law, Roman
roads, the Roman schoolmaster ; and a more humane
religion abolished the Druidical sacrifices. Lutetia was
rebuilt and became a prosperous and, next to Lyons, the
most important of Gallo- Roman cities. It lay equidistant
from Germany and Britain and at the issue of valleys which
led to the upper and lower Rhine. The quarries of Mount
Lutetius produced an admirable building stone, kind to
work and hardening well under exposure to the air. Its
white colour may have won for Paris the name of
Leucotia, or the White City, by which it is sometimes
called by ancient writers. Caesar had done his work
well, for so completely were the Gauls Romanised, that

GALLO-ROMAN PARIS 5

by the fifth or sixth century their very language had
disappeared.1

But towards the end of the third century three lowly way-
farers were journeying from Rome along the great southern
road to Paris, charged by the Pope with a mission
fraught with greater issues to Gaul than the Caesars and all
their legions. Let us recall somewhat of the appearance of
the city which Dionysius, Rusticus and Eleutherius saw as
they neared its suburbs and came down what is now known
as the Rue St. Jacques. After passing the arches of the
aqueduct, two of which exist to this day, that crossed the
valley of Arcueil and brought the waters of Rungis,2 Paray
and Montjean to the baths of the imperial palace, they would
discern on the hill of Lutetius to their right the Roman
camp, garrison and cemetery. Lower down on its eastern
slopes they would catch a glimpse of a great amphitheatre,
capable of accommodating 10,000 spectators, part of which
was laid bare in 1869 by some excavations made for the
Campagnie des Omnibus between the Rues Monge and
Linne. Unhappily, the public subscription initiated by the
Academie des Inscriptions to purchase the property proved
inadequate, and the Company retained possession of the
land. In 1883, however, other excavations were under-
taken in the Rue de Navarre, which resulted in the discovery
of the old aqueduct that drained the amphitheatre, and
some other remains, which have been preserved and made
into a public park.

On their left, where now stands the Lycee St. Louis,
would be the theatre of Lutetia, and further on the imposing
and magnificent palace of the Caesars, with its gardens sloping
down to the Seine. The turbulent little stream of the
Bievre flowed by the foot of Mons Lutetius on the east,
entering the main river opposite the eastern limit of the

1 Of some 10,000 ancient inscriptions found in Gaul, only twenty are
in Celtic, and less than thirty words of Celtic origin now remain in the
French language.

2 The water supply of Paris is even now partly derived from these
sources, and flows along the old repaired Roman aqueduct.

6 PARIS AND ITS STORY

civitas of Lutetia, gleaming white before them and girdled by
Aurelian's wall T and the waters of the Seine. A narrow eel-
shaped island, subsequently known as the Isle de Galilee,2 lay
between the Isle of the Cite and the southern bank ; two
islands, the Isles de Notre Dame and des Vaches, divided by
a narrow channel to the east, and two small islets, the Isles
des Juifs and de Bussy, to the west. Another islet, the

39m i a

REMAINS OF ROMAN AMPHITHEATRE.

Isle de Louviers, lay near the northern bank beyond the
two eastern islands. Crossing a wooden bridge, where now
stands the Petit Pont, they would enter the forum (Place
du Parvis Notre Dame) under a triumphal arch. Here
would be the very foyer of the city ; a little way to the left

1 Traces of the Gallo-Roman wall have been discovered, and are
marked across the roadway opposite No. 6 Rue de la Colombe.

2 The Isle de Galilee was joined to the Cite during the thirteenth
century.

GALLO-ROMAN PARIS 7

the governor's palace and the basilica, or hall of justice ; x
to the right the temple of Jupiter. As they crossed the
island they would find it linked to the northern bank by
another wooden bridge, replaced by the present Pont Notre
Dame.2 In the distance to the north stood Mons Martis
(Montmartre) crowned with the temples of Mars and
Mercury, four of whose columns are preserved in the
church of St. Pierre ; and to the west the aqueduct from
Passy bringing its waters to the mineral baths located on the
site of the present Palais Royal. A road, now the Rue St.
Martin, led to the north ; to the east lay the marshy land
which is still known as the quarter of the Marais.

Denis and his companions preached and taught the 1/
new faith unceasingly and met martyrs' deaths. By the
mediaeval hagiographers St. Denis is invariably confused with
Dionysius, the Areopagite, said to have been converted by
St. Paul and sent on his mission to France by Pope Clement.
In the Golden Legend he is famed to have converted much
people to the faith, and " did do make many churches," and
at length was brought before the judge who " did do smite
off the heads of the three fellows by the temple of
Mercury. And anon the body of St. Denis raised himself
up and bare his head between his arms, as the angels led
him two leagues from the place which is said the hill of the
martyrs unto the place where he now resteth by his election
and the purveyance of God, when was heard so great and
sweet a melody of angels that many that heard it believed in
our Lord." In an interesting picture, No. 995 in Room X.
of the Louvre, said to have been painted for Jean sans
Peur, Duke of Burgundy, by Malouel, and finished at his
death in 141 5 by Bellechose, St. Denis in bishop's robes

1 In 1848 some remains were found of the old halls of this building,
and of its columns, worn by the ropes of the boatmen who used to moor
their craft to them.

2 The exact position of this bridge is much disputed by authorities,
some of whom would locate it on the site of the present Pont au Change.
The balance of probabilities seems to us in favour of the position given in
the text.

8 PARIS AND ITS STORY

is seen kneeling before the block ; the headsman raises his
axe ; one of the saint's companions has already met his fate,
the other awaits it resignedly. To the left, St. Denis in
prison is receiving the Sacred Host from the hands ot
Christ.

The work that Denis and his companions began was more
fully achieved in the fourth century by the rude Pannonion
soldier, St. Martin, who also evangelised at Paris. He is the
best-known of Gallic saints, and the story of his conversion
one of the most popular in Christendom. When stationed at
Amiens he was on duty one bitter cold day at the city gate,
and espied a poor naked beggar asking alms. Soldiers in
garrison are notoriously impecunious, and Martin had
nothing to give ; but drawing his sword he cleaved his
mantle in twain, and bestowed half upon the shivering
wretch at his feet. That very night the Lord Jesus appeared
to him in a dream surrounded by angels, having on His
shoulders the half of the cloak which Martin had given to
the beggar. Turning to the angels, Jesus said : " Know
ye who hath thus arrayed Me ? My servant Martin, though
yet unbaptised, hath done this." After this vision Martin
received baptism and remained steadfast in the faith. At
length, desiring to devote himself wholly to Christ, he
begged permission to leave the army. The Emperor Julian,
who deemed the Christian faith fit only to form souls of
slaves, reproached him for his cowardice, for he was yet in
the prime of life, being forty years of age. " Put me,"
exclaimed Martin, " naked and without defence in the
forefront of the battle, and armed with the Cross alone I
will not fear to face the enemy." Early on the following
morning the barbarians submitted to the emperor without
striking a blow, and thus was victory vouchsafed to Martin's
faith and courage, and he was permitted to leave the army.
The illiterate and dauntless soldier became the fiery apostle
of the faith, a vigorous iconoclast, throwing down the images
of the false gods, breaking their altars in pieces and burning
their temples. Of the Roman gods, Mercury, he said, was

Roman Baths in Mus^e de Cluny.

GALLO-ROMAN PARIS 9

most difficult to ban, but Jove was merely stupid1 and
brutish, and gave him least trouble. Martin was a demo-
cratic saint, of ardent charity and austere devotion. Later
in life he founded the monastery of Marmoutier, which grew
to be one of the richest in France. His rule was severe ;
when his monks murmured at the hard fare he bade
them remember that cooked herbs and barley bread was the
food of the hermits of Africa. " That may be," answered
they, " but we cannot live like the angels."

On the 1 6th of March 171 1, some workmen, digging a
tomb for the archbishop of Paris in the choir of Notre
Dame, came upon the walls, six feet below the pavement, of
the original Christian basilica over which the modern
cathedral is built. In the fabric of these walls the early
builders had incorporated the remains of the still earlier
temple of Jupiter, which had been destroyed to give place to
the Christian church, and among the debris were found the
fragments of an altar raised to Jove in the reign of Tiberius
Caesar by the Naute, a guild of Parisian merchant-shippers,
an altar on whose foyer still remained some of the very
burnt wood and. incense used in the last pagan sacrifice.
The mutilated stones, with their rude Gallo-Roman reliefs
and inscriptions, may be seen in the Frigidarium of the
Thermae, the old Roman baths by the Hotel de Cluny, and
are among the most interesting of historical documents in
Paris. The Corporation of Naute who dedicated this altar
to Jove, were the origin of the Commune or Civil Council
of Paris, and in later time gave way to the provost 2 of the
merchants and the sheriffs of that city. Their device was
the Nef, or ship, which is and has been throughout the ages
the arms of Paris, and which to this day may be seen carved
on the vaultings of the Roman baths.

In the great palace of which these baths formed but
a part was enacted that scene so vividly described in the

1 " Jovem Irutum atque hebetem"

2 Not to be confounded with the Royal Provost, a king's officer, who
replaced the Carlovingian counts and Capetian viscounts.

io PARIS AND ITS STORY

pages of Gibbon, when Julian, after his victories over the
Alemanni and the Franks, was acclaimed Augustus by the
rebellious troops of Constantius. On a plain outside Paris
Julian had admonished the sullen legions, angry at being
detached from their victorious and darling commander for
service on the Persian frontier, and had urged them to
obedience. But at midnight the young Caesar was awakened
by a clamorous and armed multitude besieging the palace,
and at early dawn its doors were forced ; the reluctant Julian
was seized and carried in triumph through the streets to be
enthroned and saluted as emperor. He was lifted on a
shield, and for diadem, crowned with a military collar. In
after life the emperor-philosopher looked back with tender
regret to the three winters he spent in Paris before his ele-
vation to the imperial responsibilities and anxieties. He
writes of the busy days and meditative nights he passed in
his dear Lutetia, with its two wooden bridges, its pure and
pleasant waters, its excellent wine. He dwells on the
mildness of its climate, where the fig-tree, protected by
straw in the winter, grew and fruited. One rigorous season,
however, the emperor well remembered x when the Seine
was blocked by huge masses of ice. Julian, who prided
himself on his endurance, at first declined the use of those
charcoal fires which to this day are a common and deadly
method of supplying heat in Paris. But his rooms were
damp and his servants were allowed to introduce them into
his sleeping apartment. The Cassar was almost asphyxiated
by the fumes, and his physicians to restore him administered
an emetic. Julian in his time was beloved of the Lutetians,
for he was a just and tolerant prince whose yoke was easy.
He had purged the soil of Gaul from the barbarian invaders,
given Lutetia peace and security, and made of it an im-
portant, imperial city. His statue, found near Paris, still
recalls his memory in the hall of the great baths of the
Lutetia he loved so well.

1 The present writer recalls a similar glacial epoch in Paris during the
early eighties, when the Seine was frozen over at Christmas time.

GALLO-ROMAN PARIS 1 1

The so-called apostasy of this lover of Plato and
worshipper of the Sun, who never went to the wars or
travelled without dragging a library of Greek authors after
him, was a philosophic reaction against the harsh measures,1
the bloody and treacherous natures of the Christian
emperors, and the fierceness of the Arian controversy.
The movement was but a back-wash in the stream of
history, and is of small importance. Julian's successors,
Valentinian and Gratian, reversed his policy but shared his
love for the fair city on the Seine, and spent some winters
there. Lutetia had now become a rich and cultured Gallo-
Roman city.

1 By the law of 350 a.d. it was a capital offence to sacrifice to or
honour the old gods. The persecuted hadibecome persecutors. Boissier,
La Fin du Paganisme.

CHAPTER II

THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS ST. GENEVIEVE

THE CONVERSION OF CLOVIS THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY

In the Prologue to Faust the Lord of Heaven justifies the
existence of the restless, goading spirit of evil by the fact
that man's activity is all too prone to flag, —

" Er liebt sick bald die unbedingte Ruk."1

As with men so with empires : riches and inaction are hard
to bear. It was not so much a corruption of public morals as
a growing slackness and apathy in public life and an intellectual
sloth that hastened the fall of the Roman Empire. Owing
to the gradual exhaustion of the supply of slaves its economic
basis was crumbling away. The ruling class was content
to administer rather than to govern and unwilling or in-
competent to grapple with the new order of things.2 For
centuries the Gauls had been untrained in arms and
habituated to look to the imperial legions for defence
against the half-savage races of men, giants in stature and
strength, surging like an angry sea against their boundaries.
Towards the end of the fourth century Vandals and
Burgundians, Suevi and Alemanni, Goth and Hun, treading
on each other's heels, burst through the Rhine frontier,
destroyed the Roman garrisons and forts, and inundated
Gaul. Two of these races stayed to form kingdoms : the
Burgundians in the fertile plains of the Rhine ; the Visigoths
in Aquitaine and North Spain, whose aid the Romans were

1 " He soon hugs himself in unconditioned ease."

2 To protect home producers against the competition of the Gallic
wine and olive growers, Roman statesmen could conceive nothing better
than the stupid expedient of prohibiting the culture of the vine and olive
in Gaul.

THE BARBARIAN INVASIONS 13

fain to seek to roll back the hordes of Attila's Huns at
Chalons-sur-Marne. This was the last achievement of
Roman arms in Gaul, and even that victory was largely due
to the courage of the Goths. In the fifth century the
confederation of Frankish tribes who had conquered and
settled in Belgium saw successive waves of invasion pass by,
and determined to have their part in the spoils of Gaul.
They soon overran Flanders and the north, and at length
under Clovis captured Paris and conquered nearly the
whole of Gaul.

The end of the fifth century is the beginning of the
evil times of Gallic story. That fair land of France, u one
of Nature's choicest masterpieces, one of Ceres' chiefest
barns for corn, one of Bacchus' prime wine cellars and
of Neptune's best salt-pits," became the prey of the bar-
barian. The whole fabric of civilisation seem doomed
to destruction. Gaul had become the richest and most
populous of Roman provinces ; its learning and literature
were noised in Rome ; its schools drew students from
the mother city herself. But at the end of the sixth
century Gregory of Tours deplores the fact that in his
time there were neither books, nor readers, nor scholar
who could compose in verse or prose, and that only
the speech of the rustic was understood. He playfully
scolds himself for muddling prepositions and confusing
genders and cases, but his duty as a Christian priest
is to instruct, not to charm, and so he tells the story
of his times in such rustic Latin as he knows. He draws
for us a vivid picture of Clovis, the founder of the French
monarchy, his savage valour, his astuteness, his regal
passion.

After the victory over Syagrius, the shadowy king of the
Romans, at Soissons, Clovis was met by St. Remi, who prayed
that a vase of great price and wondrous beauty among the
spoil might be returned to him. "Follow us," said the
king, c< to Soissons, where the booty will be shared." Before
the division took place Clovis begged that the vase might be

i4 PARIS AND ITS STORY

accorded to him. His warriors answered : " All, glorious
king, is thine." But before the king could grasp the vase,
one, jealous and angry, threw his francisque l at it, exclaim-
ing : u Thou shalt have no more than falls to thy lot."
The broken vase was however apportioned to the king, who
restored it to the bishop. But Clovis hid the wound in his
heart. At the annual review in the Champ de Mars near
Paris, the king strode along the line inspecting the weapons
of his warriors. He stopped in front of the uncourtly
soldier, took his axe from him, complained of its foul state,
and flung it angrily on the ground. As the man stooped to
pick it up Clovis, with his own axe, cleft his skull in twain,
exclaiming : " Thus didst thou to the vase at Soissons."
" Even so," says Gregory quaintly, " did he inspire all with
great fear."

At this point of our story we meet the first of those
noble women, heroic and wise, for whom French history
is pre-eminent. In the first half of the fifth century St.
Germain of Auxerre and St. Lew of Troyes, chosen by
the prelates of France " for to go and quench an heresy
that was in Great Britain, now called England, came to
Nanterre for to be lodged and harboured and the people
came against them for to have their benison. Among
the people, St. Germain, by the enseignements of the Holy
Ghost, espied out the little maid St. Genevieve, and made
her come to him, and kissed her head and demanded her
name, and whose daughter she was, and the people about
her said that her name was Genevieve, and her father
Severe, and her mother Geronce, which came unto him,
and the holy man said : Is this child yours ? They
answered : Yea. Blessed be ye, said the holy man,
when God hath given to you so noble lineage, know ye
for certain that the day of her nativity the angels sang
and hallowed great mystery in heaven with great joy and
gladness."

1 The favourite arm of the Franks, a short battle-axe, used as a missile
or at close quarters.

ST. GENEVIEVE

When on the morn she was brought to him again,
he saw in her a sign celestial, commended her to God,
and prayed that she would remember him in her orisons,
and on his return to Paris, finding her in the city,
he commended her to its people. Tidings came that
" Attila, the felon knight of Hungary, had enterprised
to destroy and waste the parts of France," and the burgesses
of Paris for great dread they had, sent their goods into cities
more sure. Genevieve caused the good women of the town
" to wake in fastings and orisons, and bade the merchants
not to remove their goods for the city should have none
harm." At first the people hardened their hearts and
reviled her, but at St. Germain's prayers they believed in her,
and our Lord " for her love did so much that the tyrants
approached not Paris, thanks and glory to God and honour
to the virgin." At the siege of Paris by Childeric and his
Franks, when the people were wasted by sickness and
famine, " the holy virgin, that pity constrained, went by
the Seine to Arcy and Troyes for to go fetch by ship
some victuals. She stilled by her prayers a furious tempest
and brought the ships back laden with wheat." When the
city was at length captured, King Childeric, although a
paynim, saved at her intercession the lives of his
prisoners, and one day, to escape her importunate pleadings
for the lives of some criminals, fled out of the gates of Paris
and shut them behind him.

The saint lived to build a church over the tomb of
St. Denis and to see Clovis become a Christian. She
died in 509, and was buried on the hill of Lutetius, which
ever since has borne her name.

" Her hope," says the Golden Legend^ from which we
have chiefly drawn her story, " was nothing in worldly
things, but in heavenly, for she believed in the holy scriptures
that saith : Whoso giveth to the poor liveth for availe.
The reward which they receive that give to poor people,
the Holy Ghost had showed to her long tofore, and
therefore she ceased not to weep, to adore and to do

>'-: _'

/it

r«*~«.~w.i

TOWER OF CLOVIS,

CONVERSION OF CLOVIS 17

works of pity, for she knew well that she was none
other in this world but a pilgrim passing."

The faithful built a little wooden oratory over her
tomb, which Clovis and his wife Clotilde replaced by a
great basilica and monastery which became their burial-
place. All that now recalls the church, whose length the
king measured by the distance he could hurl his axe, is the
so-called Tower of Clovis, a thirteenth-century structure
in the Rue Clovis. The golden shrine of the saint,1 which
reached thirty feet above the high altar, was confiscated
by the Revolutionists to pay their armies, and what
remains of her relics is now treasured in the neighbouring
church of St. Etienne du Mont.

The conversion of Clovis is the capital fact of early
French history. His queen Clotilde, niece of the
Burgundian king, had long2 importuned him to declare
himself a Christian. He had consented to the baptism
of their firstborn, but the infant's death within a week
seemed an admonition from his own jealous gods. A
second son, however, recovered from grievous sickness at
his wife's prayers and this, aided perhaps by a shrewd
insight into the trend of events, induced him to lend
a more willing ear to the teachers of the new Faith. In
496 the Franks were at death grapple with their German
foes at Tolbiac. Clovis, when the fight went against him,
invoked the God of the Christians and prayed to be
delivered from his enemies. His cry was heard and the
advent of the new Lord of Battles was winged with victory.

There was a stirring scene that Christmas at Rheims,
when Clovis with his two sisters and three thousand of

1 Her figure was a favourite subject for the sculptors of Christian
churches. She usually bears a taper in her hand and a devil is seen
peering over her shoulder. This symbolises the miraculous relighting of
the taper after the devil had extinguished it. The taper was long
preserved at Notre Dame.

2 If we may believe Gregory of Tours, her arguments were vitupera-
tive rather than convincing. " Your Jupiter," said she, " is omnium stuprorum
spurcissimus perpetrator"

1 8 PARIS AND ITS STORY

his warriors marched through the streets, all hung with
cloth of many colours, into the cathedral which was
glittering with innumerable candles and perfumed with
incense of divine odour. Clovis was the first to be
baptised. "Bend thy neck, gentle Sicamber,', cried St.
Remi. " Adore what thou didst burn : burn what thou
didst adore.' ' When the bishop was reading the Gospel
story of the Passion, the king, thrilled with indignation,
cried out : " Ah ! had I been there with my Franks I would
have avenged the Christ."

The conversion of Clovis was a triumph for the Church :
in her struggle with the Arian heresy in Gaul, she was
now able to enforce the arguments of the pen by the
edge of the sword. The enemies of Clovis were the enemies
of the Church, and as the representative of the Eastern
emperor, she arrayed him, after the defeat of the Arian
Goths in the South, in purple and hailed him Consul and
Augustus at Tours. Her scribes are tender to his memory,
for his Christianity was marked by few signs of grace.
He remained the same savage monarch as before, and did
not scruple to affirm his dynasty and extend his empire by
treachery and by the assassination of his kinsmen. To the
Franks, Jesus was but a new and more puissant tribal
deity. "Long live the Christ who loves the Franks,"
writes the author of the prologue to the Salic law ; and
Clothaire I., when the pangs of death seized him in his
villa at Compiegne, cried out, " Who is this God of Heaven
that thus allows the greatest kings of the earth to perish ? "
Nor was their ideal of kingship any loftier. Their kingdom
was not a trust, but a possession to be divided among their
heirs, and the jealousy and strife excited by the repeated
partition among sons, make the history of the Merovingian J
dynasty a tale of cruelty and treachery whose every page is
stained with blood.

In the ninth century a story was current among the

1 Merovee, second of the kings of the Salic Franks, was fabled to be the
issue of Clodio s wife and a sea monster.

1-1

O
<

THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY 19

people of France which admirably symbolises the fate
of the dynasty. One night as Childeric, father of Clovis,
lay by the side of Basine, his wife, she awoke him and
said, " Arise, O king, look in the courtyard of thy dwell-
ing and tell thy servant what thou shalt see." Childeric
arose and saw beasts pass by that seemed like unto lions,
unicorns and leopards. He returned to his wife and told
her what he had seen. And Basine said to him : " Master,
go once again and tell thy servant what thou shalt see."
Childeric went forth anew and saw beasts passing by
like unto bears and wolves. Having related this to his
wife she bade him go forth yet a third time. He now
saw dogs and other baser animals rending each other
to pieces. Then said Basine to Childeric: "What
thou hast seen with thine eyes shall verily come to
pass. A son shall be born to us who will be a lion for
courage : the sons of our sons shall be like unto leopards
and unicorns : they in their turn shall bring forth children
like unto bears and wolves for their voracity. The last
of those whom thou sawest shall come for the end and
destruction of the kingdom."

Clovis, in 508, made Paris the official capital of his
realm, and at his death in 511 divided his possessions
between his four sons — Thierry, Clodomir, Childebert, and
Clothaire. Clodomir after a short reign met his death in
battle, leaving his children to the guardianship of their
grandmother, Clotilde. One day messengers came to her
in the palace of the Thermae from Childebert and Clothaire
praying that their nephews might be entrusted to them.
Believing they were to be trained in kingly offices that they
might succeed their father in due time, Clotilde granted
their prayer and two of the children were sent to them in
the palace of the Cite. Soon came another messenger,
bearing a pair of shears and a naked sword, and Clotilde was
bidden to determine the fate of her wards and to choose for
them between the cloister and the edge of the sword. An
angry exclamation escaped her : " If they are not to be

20 PARIS AND ITS STORY

raised to the throne, I would rather see them dead than
shorn/ ' The messenger waited to hear no more and
hastened back to the two kings. Clothaire then seized the
elder of the children and stabbed him under the armpit.
The younger, at the sight of his brother's blood, flung
himself at Childebert's feet, burst into tears, and cried :
" Help me, dear father, let me not die even as my brother."
Childebert's heart was softened and he begged for the child's
life. Clothaire's only answer was a volley of insults and a
threat of death if he protected the victim. Childebert then
disintwined the child's tender arms clasping his knees — he
was but six years of age — and pushed him to his brother,
who drove a dagger into his breast. The tutors and
servants of the children were then butchered, and Clothaire
rode calmly to his palace, to become at his brother's death, in
558, sole king of the Franks. The third child, Clodoald,
owing to the devotion of faithful servants escaped, and
was hidden for some time in Provence. Later in life he
returned to Paris and built a monastery at a place still
known by his name (St. Cloud) about two leagues from the
city.

Clothaire himself had narrowly escaped assassination
when allied with Thierry during the wars with the
Thuringians. Thierry invited his brother one day to a
conference, having previously hidden some armed men
behind the hangings in his tent. But the drapery was too
short, and Clothaire as he entered caught sight of the
assassins' feet peeping through. He retained his arms and
his escort. Thierry invented some fable to explain the
interview, embraced his brother and bestowed on him a
heavy silver plate.

The fruits of kingship were bitter to Clothaire. Ere
two years were past his rebellious and adulterous son,
Chramm, escaped to Brittany and raised an army against him.
Chramm and his allies were defeated, himself, his wife and
children captured. Clothaire spared none. Chramm was
strangled with a handkerchief, and his wife and children

THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY 21

were cast into a peasant's hut which was set on fire and all
perished in the flames. Next year the king took cold while
hunting near Compiegne, fell sick of a fever and died.

Four out of seven sons had survived him, and again the
kingdom was divided. Charibert, king of Paris, soon died,
and yet again a partition was made among the three
survivors. To Siegbert fell Austrasia or Eastern France as
far as the Rhine : to Chilperic, Neust-ia or Western France
to the borders of Brittany and the Loire : Gontram's lot
was Burgundy. Once more the consuming flames of
passion and greed burst forth, this time fanned by the fierce
breath of feminine rivalry. Siegbert had married Brunehaut,
daughter of the Visigoth king of Spain : Chilperic had
espoused her sister, Galowinthe, after repudiating his first
wife, Adowere. When the new queen of Neustria came to
her throne she found herself the rival of Fredegonde, a
common servant, with whom Chilperic had been living.
He soon tired of his new wife, a gentle and pliant
creature ; Fredegonde regained her supremacy and one
morning Galowinthe was found strangled in bed. The
news came to the court of Austrasia and Brunehaut goaded
King Siegbert to avenge her sister's death. Meanwhile
Chilperic had married Fredegonde, who quickly compassed
the murder of her only rival, the repudiated queen, Adowere.
At the intervention of Gontram war was, for a time, averted,
and Chilperic, by the judgment of the whole people, made
to compensate Brunehaut by the restoration of her sister's
dowry. But Chilperic soon drew the sword and civil war
again devastated the land. By foreign aid Siegbert captured
and spoiled Paris and compelled a peace. Scarcely, however,
had the victor dismissed his German allies, when Chilperic
fell upon him again. Siegbert now determined to make an
end. He entered Paris, and the Neustrians having accepted
him as king, he prepared to crush his enemy at Tournay.
As he set forth, St. Germain, bishop of Paris, seized his
horse's bridle and warned him that the grave he was
digging for his brother would swallow him too. It was of

, 22 PARIS AND ITS STORY

no avail. He marched to Vitry and was proclaimed king
of Neustria. After the proclamation two messengers de-
sired to see him. As he stood between them listening to
their suit he was stabbed on either side by two long
poisoned knives : the assassins had been sent by Frede-
gonde. Chilperic now hastened to Paris and seized the
royal treasure. Brunehaut's son, Childebert II., a child oi
five, was, however, stolen away from the palace in a basket
by one of Siegbert's faithful servants and proclaimed king
by the warriors.

But Fredegonde's tale of blood was not yet complete.
She soon learned that Merovee, one of Chilperic's two sons
by Adowere, had married Brunehaut. Merovee followed
the rest of her victims, and Clovis, the second son, together
with a sister of Adowere, next glutted her vengeance. " On<
day, after leaving the Synod of Paris," writes St. Gregory, " I
had bidden King Chilperic adieu and had withdrawn convers-
ing with the bishop of Albi. As we crossed the courtyarc
of the palace T he said : c Seest thou not what I perceive abov<
this roof?' I answered, CI see only a second building
which the king has had built/ He asked again, c Seest
thou naught else ? ' I weened he spoke in jest and did
but answer — c If thou seest aught else, prithee show it
unto me.' Then uttering a deep sigh, he said : c I see
the sword of God's wrath suspended over this house.' '
Shortly after this conversation Chilperic having returned
from the chase to his royal villa of Chelles, was leaning on
the shoulder of one of his companions to descend from his
horse, when Landeric, servant of Fredegonde, stabbed him t<
death.

Thirty years were yet to pass before the curtain falls on
the acts of the rival queens, their sons and grandsons, but
the heart revolts at the details of the wars and lusts of these
savage potentates. Gregory begins the fifth book of his
Annals by expressing the weariness that falls upon him when
he recalls the manifold civil wars of the Franks.

1 The palace in the Cite, where now stands the Palais de Justice.

Rue St Jacques.

THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY 23

Let us make an end of this part of our story. By her
son, Clothaire II., Fredegonde continued to dominate
Neustria : Brunehaut ruled over Austrasia and Burgundy
through her sons Theodobert II. and Thierry II. Battle
and murder had destroyed Brunehaut's children and her
children's children until none were left to rule over
the realms but herself and the four sons of Thierry II.
The nobles, furious at the further tyranny of a cruel and im-
perious woman, plotted her ruin, and in 6 1 3, when Brunehaut,
sure of victory, marched with two armies against Clothaire
II., she was betrayed to him, her implacable enemy. He
reproached her with the death of ten kings, and set
her on a camel for three days to be mocked and insulted
by the army. The old and fallen queen was then tied
to the tail of a horse : the creature was lashed into fury
and soon all that remained of the proud queen was a
shapeless mass of carrion. The traditional place where
Brunehaut met her death is still shown at the corner of
the Rue St. Honore and the Rue de l'Arbre Sec. Thierry's
four sons had already been put to death.

In 597 her rival Fredegonde, at the height of her
prosperity, had died peacefully in bed, full of years, and was
buried in the church of St. Vincent (St. Germain des Pres)
by the side of Chilperic, her husband, and Clothaire II.
became sole monarch of the three kingdoms.

Amid all this ruin and desolation, when the four angels
of the Euphrates seem to have been loosed on Gaul, one
force was silently at work knitting up the ravelled ends of
the rent fabric of civilisation and tending a lamp which
burned with the promise of ideals nobler far than those
which fed the ancient faith and polity. The Christian
bishops were everywhere filling the empty curule chairs in
the cities and provinces of Gaul. At the end of the sixth
century society lived in the Church and by the Church, and
the sees of the archbishops and bishops corresponded to the
Roman administrative divisions. All that was best in the
old Gallo-Roman aristocracy was drawn into her bosom, for

PARIS AND ITS STORY

she was the one power making for unity and good govern-
ment. From one end of the land to the other the bishops
visited and corresponded with each other. They alone had
communion of ideas, common sentiments and common in-
terests. St. Gregory, bishop of Tours, was the son of a senator ;
St. Germain of Auxerre was a man of noble lineage, who had
already exercised high public functions before he was made
a bishop. St. Germain of Autun was ever on the move,
now in Brittany, now at Paris, now at Aries, to crush heresy,
to threaten a barbarian potentate, or to sear the conscience
and, if need were, ban the person of a guilty Christian king.
The bishop of Treves, seeing the horses of some royal
Frankish envoys grazing in the wheat-fields of the peasants,
threatened to excommunicate them if they spoiled the sub-
stance of the poor, and himself drove the horses away.

By the end of the sixth century two hundred and thirty-
eight monastic institutions had been founded in Gaul, and
from the sixth to the eighth century, eighty-three churches
were built. The monasteries were so many nurseries of the
industry, knowledge and learning which had not perished in
the barbarian invasions ; so many cities of refuge from
violence and rapine, where the few who thirsted after
righteousness and burned with charity might find shelter
and protection. " Every letter traced on paper," said an
old abbot, "is a blow to the devil." The ecclesiastical and
monastic schools took the place of the destroyed Roman day-
schools, and whatever modicum of learning the Frankish
courts could boast of, was due to the monks and nuns of
their time ; for some at least of these potentates when not
absorbed in the gratification of their lusts, their vengeance,
greed, or ambition, were possessed by nobler instincts.

Brunehaut, nurtured in the more cultured atmosphere
of the Visigoth court of Spain, protected commerce and
kept the Roman roads1 in repair, founded monasteries and
corresponded with Gregory the Great, who commended to

1 Roads in the Arrondissement of Amiens and Mondidier in Picardy
are still known as Chaussees Brunehautes.

THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY 25

her care the safety of his missionaries passing through her
dominions to convert the Angles across the straits.

Chilperic, whom Gregory of Tours brands as the Herod
and Nero of his time, plumed himself on his piety, was
concerned at the blasphemies of the Jews, and forced on
them conversion or exile at the sword's point. He com-
posed Latin hymns, and discussed the nature of the Trinity
with Gregory and the bishop of Albi. He sought to reform
the alphabet by the addition of new letters which corresponded
to the guttural sounds in the Frankish tongue, and ordered
that the old alphabet should be erased from the children's
books with pumice stone in all the cities of his kingdom,
and the reformed alphabet substituted for it.

Among the wives of Clothaire I. was the gentle
Radegonde, who turned with horror from the bloody scenes
of the palace to live in works of charity with the poor and
suffering, and in holy communion with priests and bishops.
She was at length consecrated a deaconess by St. Medard,
donned the habit of a nun, and founded a convent at
Poitiers, where the poet Fortunatus had himself ordained a
priest that he might be near her. Radegonde's memory is
dear to us in England, for it was a small company of her
nuns who settled on the Green Croft by the river bank
below Cambridge, and founded a priory whose noble church
and monastic buildings were subsequently incorporated in
Jesus College when the nunnery was suppressed by Bishop
Alcock in 1496.

To St. Germain of Autun, made bishop in 555, Paris
owes one of her earliest ecclesiastical foundations. His
influence over Childebert, king of Paris, was great. He
obtained an order that those who refused to destroy pagan
idols in their possession were to answer to the king, and
when Childebert and his warriors, seized by an irresistible
fighting impulse, marched into Spain, and were bought off
the siege and sack of Saragossa by the present of the tunic
of St. Vincent, he induced the king to found the abbey and
church of St. Vincent (St. Germain des Pres), to receive

PARIS AND ITS STORY

the relic. In Childebert's reign was begun on the site of the
present Cathedral of Notre Dame a splendid basilica, so

ST. GERMAIN DES PRES.

magnificently decorated that it was compared to Solomon's
Temple for the beauty and the delicacy of its art. During
this great outburst of zeal and devotion another monastery
was established and dedicated to St. Vincent, which subse-

St Julien le Pauvre.

THE MEROVINGIAN DYNASTY 27

quently became associated with the name of the earlier
St. Germain of Auxerre (l'Auxerrois).

A curious episode is found in Gregory's Chronicle^ which
is characteristic of the times, and proves that a monastery
and church of St. Julien le Pauvre were already in existence.
An impostor, claiming to have the relics of St. Vincent and
St. Felix, came to Paris, but refused to deposit them with
the bishop for verification. He was arrested and searched,
and the so-called relics were found to consist of mole's
teeth, the bones of mice, some bear's claws and other
rubbish. They were flung into the Seine and the impostor was
put in prison. Gregory, who was lodging in the monastery
of St. Julien le Pauvre, went into the church shortly after
midnight to say matins, and found the creature, who had
escaped from the bishop's prison, dead drunk on the
pavement. He had him dragged away into a corner, but
so intolerable was the stench that the pavement was purified
with water and sweet smelling herbs. When the bishops,
who were at Paris for a synod, met at dinner the next day,
the impostor was identified as a fugitive slave of the bishop
of Tarbes.

At the end of the sixth century we bid adieu to St.
Gregory of Tours, gentlest of annalists. Courageous and
independent before kings, he had a pitying heart for the
poor and suffering, and bewails the loss of many sweet
little babes of Christ, during the plague of 580, whom he
had warmed at his breast, carried in his arms, and fed
tenderly with his hands.

Clothaire II. was a pious king in his way, interested in
letters, a munificent patron of the Church, but overfond of
the chase and inheriting the savage instincts of his race in
dealing with enemies. After quelling a Saxon revolt he is
said to have killed all the warriors whose stature exceeded
the length of his sword. Dagobert the Great, his son, who
succeeded him in 628, was the most enlightened and
mightiest of the Merovingian kings. He and his favourite
minister, St. Eloy, goldsmith and bishop (founder of the

28 PARIS AND ITS STORY

convent which long bore his name), are enshrined in the
hearts of the people in many a song and ballad : — St. Eloy,
with his good humour, his happy countenance, his eloquence,
gentleness, modesty, wit, and wide charity ; Dagobert, the
Solomon of the Franks, the terror of the oppressor, the
darling of the poor. The great king was fond of Paris and
established himself there when not scouring his kingdom to
administer justice or to crush his enemies. He was the
second founder of the monastery of St. Denis, which he re-
built and endowed, and to which he gave much importance
by the establishment there of a great fair, which soon drew
merchants from all parts of Europe. He was a patron of
the arts and employed St. Eloy to make reliquaries x for the
churches in Paris of such richness and beauty that they
were admired of the whole of France.

Chaos and misery followed the brilliant reign of
Dagobert. In half a century his race had faded into the
feeble rots faineants, degenerate by precocious debauchery,
some of whom were fathers at fourteen or fifteen years of
age and in their graves before they were thirty.2

In an age when human passions are untamed, the one
unpardonable vice in a king is weakness, and soon the in-
capable, impotent and irresolute Merovingians were thrust
aside by a more puissant race.

1 The works of art traditionally ascribed to St. Eloy are many. He is
reported to have made a golden throne set with stones (or rather two thrones,
for he used his material so honestly and economically). He was made
master of the mint and thirteen pieces of money are known which bear
his name. He decorated the tombs of St. Martin and St. Denis, and
constructed reliquaries for St. Germain, Notre Dame, and other churches.

2 Five of them died between the ages of eighteen and twenty-six.

CHAPTER III

THE CARLOVINGIANS THE GREAT SIEGE OF PARIS BY THE

NORMANS THE GERMS OF FEUDALISM

At the head of the establishment of every Merovingian
chief was his mayor, or major domus, who administered
his domains and acted as deputy when his master was non-
resident or away at the wars. A similar official of the
king's household, the mayor of the palace, likewise presided
over the royal council and tribunal in the absence or during
the minority of the king.

In 622, when Dagobert became king of Austrasia, one
Pepin of Landen, known as Pepin le Vieux, was made mayor
of the palace and, associated with St. Arnoulf, bishop of
Metz, was appointed ward of the young king. A marriage
between Pepin's daughter and the son of St. Arnoulf re-
sulted in the birth of Pepin of Heristal, who in the anarchy
that followed on Dagobert's death succeeded in crushing
Ebroin,1 the king-maker, mayor of the palace of Neustria.
Pepin then seized the royal treasury, installed Thierry III.
as king of the Franks and himself as mayor of the palace.
Pepin's successor, for the office of mayor had now become
hereditary, was Charles Martel, his son by Alfaide, a fair
and noble concubine. He it was, who by his valour and
address saved Western Europe from the Mussulman at
Tours, and made glorious his name in Christendom. At
his death, when crossing the Alps to defend the Pope
against the Arian Lombards, the leadership of the Franks

1 It was during this struggle that St. Leger, bishop of Autun, whose
name is dear to English sportsmen, one of the most popular of saints in
his time, was imprisoned, blinded and subsequently beheaded by Ebrion's
orders in 678.

3o PARIS AND ITS STORY

passed to his sons Carloman and Pepin the Short, of whom
the latter, on his brother's retirement to the cloister at the
famous Italian Benedictine monastery at Monte Cassino,
held undivided sway.

Charles Martel, although buried with the Frankish
kings at St. Denis, was content with the title of Duke of
the Franks, and hesitated to proclaim himself king. He,
like the other mayors of the palace, ruled through feeble
and pensioned puppets when they did not contemptuously
leave the throne vacant. In 751 Pepin sent two prelates
to sound Pope Zacchary, who, being hard pressed by the
Lombards, lent a willing ear to their suit, agreed that he
who was king in fact should be made so in name, and
authorised Pepin to assume the title of king. Chilperic
III., like a discarded toy, was relegated to a monastery at St.
Omer, and Pepin the Short anointed at Soissons by St.
Boniface, bishop of Mayence, from that sacred " ampul full
of chrism " which an angel of Paradise had brought to St.
Remi wherewith to anoint Clovis at Rheims. In the year
754 Stephen III., the first pope who had honoured Paris by
his presence, came to ask the reward of his predecessor's
favour and was lodged at St. Denis. There he anointed
Pepin anew, with his sons Charles and Carloman, and
compelled the Frankish chieftains, under pain of ex-
communication, to swear allegiance to them and their
descendants.

The city of Lutetia had much changed since the
messengers of Pope Fabianus entered five centuries before.
On that southern hill where formerly stood the Roman
camp and cemetery were now the great basilica and abbey
of St. Genevieve. The amphitheatre and probably much
of the palace of the Cassars were in ruins, all stripped of
their marbles to adorn the new Christian churches. Ex-
tensive abbatial buildings and a church resplendent with
marble and gold, on the west, were dedicated to St.
Vincent, and were henceforth to be known as St. Germain
of the Meadows (des Pres\ for the saint's body had been

THE CARLOVINGIANS 31

translated from the chapel of St. Symphorien in the
vestibule to the high altar of the abbey church a few weeks
before the pope's arrival at St. Denis. The Cite1 was still
held within the decayed Roman walls, and a wooden bridge,
the Petit Pont, crossed the south arm of the Seine. On the
site of the old pagan temple to Jupiter by the market-place
stood a new and magnificent basilica to Our Lady. The
devotion of the Naut<e had been transferred from Apollo to
St. Nicholas, patron of shipmen, and Mercury had given
place to St. Michael, and to each of those saints oratories
were erected. Other churches and oratories adorned the
island, dedicated to St. Stephen, St. Gervais, and St. Denis
of the Prison (de la chartre), built where the saint was
imprisoned by the north wall and where, abandoned by his
followers, he was visited by his divine Lord, who Himself
administered the sacred Host. A nunnery dedicated to St.
Eloy, where three hundred pious nuns diffused the odour of
Jesus Christ through the whole city, occupied a large site
opposite the west front of Notre Dame. Near by stood a
hospital, founded and endowed a century before by St.
Landry, bishop of Paris, for the sick poor, which soon
became known as the Hostel of God (Hotel Dieu). The
old Roman palace and basilica had been transformed into
the official residence and tribunal of justice of the Frankish
kings. On the south bank stood the church and monastery
of St. Julien le Pauvre. A new Frankish city was growing
on the north bank, bounded on the west by the abbey of St.
Vincent le Rond, later known as St. Germain l'Auxerrois,
and on the east by the abbey of St. Lawrence. Houses
clustered around the four great monasteries, and suburbs
were in course of formation. The Cite was still largely
inhabited by opulent merchants of Gallo-Roman descent,
who were seen riding along the streets in richly-decorated
chariots drawn by oxen.

King Pepin, after proving himself a valiant champion of

1 The term Cite (civitas) was given to the old Roman part of many
French towns.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

orthodoxy by defeating the Arian Lombards, and bestowing
Ravenna on the pope in perpetual sovereignty, died at Paris

pipn

ST. JULIEN LE PAUVRE.

in 768. The kingdom of France was then shared by his sons,
Charles and Carloman, and on the latter's [death in 771

THE CARLOVIXGIA>- 33

Charles, surnamed the Great, began his tremendous career
during which the interest of the French Monarchy shifts
from Paris to Aix-la-Chapelle. Charlemagne during his
long reign of nearly half a century was too preoccupied
with his noble but ineffectual purpose of cementing by
blood and iron the warring races of Europe into a united
populus Christianus, and establishing, under the dual lord-
ship of emperor and pope, a city of God on earth, to give
much attention to Paris. He did, however, spend a few
Christmases there, and was present at the dedication of the
new church of St. Denis, completed in 775 under Abbot
Fulrad. It was a typical Frankish prince whom the
Parisians saw enthroned at St. Denis. He had the
abundant fair hair, shaven chin and long moustache we see
in the traditional pictures of Clovis. Above middle height,
with bright piercing eyes and short neck, he impressed all
by the majesty of his bearing in spite of a rather shrill and
feeble voice and a certain asymmetrical rotundity below the
belt. Abbot Fulrad was a sturdy prince and for long
disputed the possession of some lands at Plessis with the
bishop of Paris. The decision of the case is characteristic
of the times. Two champions were deputed to act for the
litigants, and met before the Count of Paris x in the king's
chapel of St. Nicholas in the Palace of the Cite, and a solemn
judgment by the Cross was held. While the royal chaplain
recited psalms and prayers, the two champions stood forth
and held their arms outstretched in the form of a cross.
In this trial of endurance the bishop's deputy was the first
to succumb. His fainting arms drooped and the abbot won
his cause.

Paris grew but slowly under the Frankish kings. They
lived ill at ease within city walls. Children of the fields
and the forest, whose delight was in the chase or in war, they
were glad to escape from Paris to their villas at Chelles or
Compiegne.

1 The Carlovingians had been careful to abolish the office of mayor
of the palace.

34 PARIS AND ITS STORY

But the civil power of the Church grew apace. In the
early sixth century one-third of the land of France was held
and administered by the monasteries. The abbots of St.
Germain des Pres held possession of nearly 90,000 acres of
land, mostly arable, in various provinces of France. Their
annual revenue amounted to about ,£24,000 of our money :
they ruled over more than 10,000 serfs. From a list of
the lands held in the ninth century by the abbey of St.
Pierre des Fosses,1 founded by Clovis II. about eight miles
from Paris, and published in the Tresor des pieces rares ou
inidites^ we are able to form some idea of the vast extent of
monastic possessions in the city. The names of the various
properties whose boundaries touch those of the abbey
lands are given. Private owners are mentioned only four
times, whereas to ecclesiastical and monastic domains there
are no less than ninety references.

These monastic settlements were veritable garden cities,
where most of our modern fruits, flowers and vegetables
were cultivated ; where flocks and herds were bred and all
kinds of poultry, including pheasants and peacocks, rearec
Guilds of craftsmen worked and flourished ; markets wen
held generally on saints' days, and pilgrimages were fostere(
Charlemagne was an honest coiner and a protector of foreigi
traders ; he was tolerant of the Jews, the only capitalists ol
the time, and under him Paris became the " market of th<
peoples," and Venetian and Syrian merchants sought hei
shores.

In Gallo-Roman days few were the churches outside th<
cities, but in the great emperor's time every villa 2 is said t(

1 St. Pierre was subsequently enriched by the possession of the boc
of St. Maur, brought thither in the Norman troubles by fugitive monks
from Anjou, and the monastery is better known to history under the name
of St. Maur des Fosses. The entrails of our own Henry V. were buried
there. Rabelais, before its secularisation, was one of its canons, and
Catherine de Medicis once possessed a chateau on its site. Monastery
and chateau no longer exist.

2 The villa of those days was a vast domain, part dwelling, part farm,
part game preserve.

THE CARLO V1NGIANS 35

have had its chapel or oratory served by a priest. Charlemagne
was a zealous patron of such learning as the epoch afforded,
and sought out scholars in every land. English, Irish, Scotch,
Italian, Goth and Bavarian — all were welcomed. The English
scholar Alcuin, master of the Cloister School at York,
became his chief adviser and tutor. He would have every
child in his empire to know at least his paternoster. Every
abbot on election was required to endow the monastery
with some books. The choice of authors was not a wide one :
the Old and New Testaments ; the writings of the Fathers,
especially St. Augustine, the emperor's favourite author ;
Josephus ; the works of Bede ; some Latin authors, chiefly
Virgil ; some scraps of Plato translated into Latin — a some-
what exiguous and austere library, but one which reared a noble
and valiant line of scholars and statesmen to rule the minds
and bridle the savage lusts of the coming generations of men.
Under Irish and Anglo-Saxon influences the cramped, minute
script of the Merovingian scribes grew in beauty and
lucidity : gold and silver and colour illuminated the pages of
their books. The golden age of the Roman peace seemed
dawning again in a new Imperium Christianorum.

Towards the end of his reign the old emperor was dining
with his court in a seaport town in the south of France,
when news came that some strange, black, piratical craft had
dared to attack the harbour. They were soon scattered, but
the emperor was seen to rise from the table and go to a
window, where he stood gazing fixedly at the retreating
pirates. Tears trickled down his cheeks and none dared to
approach him. At length he turned and said : " Know ye,
my faithful servants, wherefore I weep thus bitterly ? I
fear not these wretched pirates, but I am afflicted that they
should dare to approach these shores, and sorely do grieve
when I foresee what evil they will work on my sons and on
my people." His courtiers deemed they were Breton or
Saracen pirates, but the emperor knew better. They were
the terrible Northmen, soon to prove a bloodier scourge to
Gaul than Hun or Goth or Saracen ; and to meet them

36 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Charlemagne left an empire distracted by civil war and a
nerveless, feeble prince, Louis the Pious, Louis the Forgiv-
ing, fitter for the hermit's cell than for the throne and sword
of an emperor.

In 841 the black boats of the sea-rovers for the first time
entered the Seine, and burnt Rouen and Fontenelle. In
845 a fleet of one hundred and twenty vessels swept up its
higher waters and on Easter Eve captured, plundered and
burnt Paris, sacked its monasteries and churches and
butchered their monks and priests. The futile Emperor
Charles the Bald bought them off at St. Denis with
seven thousand livres of silver, and they went back to their
Scandinavian homes gorged with plunder — only to return
year by year, increased in numbers and ferocity. Words
cannot picture the terror of the citizens and monks when
the dread squadrons, with the monstrous dragons carved on
their prows, their great sails and three-fold serried ranks of
men-of-prey, were sighted. Everyone left his home and
sought refuge in flight. The monks hurried off with the
bodies of the saints, the relics and treasures of the sanctuary,
to hide them in far-away cities. In 852 Charles the Bald'
soldiers refused to fight, and for two hundred and eighty-
seven days the pirates ravaged the valley of the Seine at
their will. Never within memory or tradition were such
things known. Rouen, Bayeux, Beauvais, Paris, Meaux,
Melun, Chartres, Evreux, were devastated. The islands of the
Seine were whitened by the bones of the victims. Similar
horrors were wrought along the other rivers of France.
Whole districts reverted to paganism. In 858 a body oi
the freebooters settled on the island of Oissel, below Rouen,
and issued forth en excursion to spoil and slay and burn
at their pleasure. They made of the once rich city oi
Paris a cinder heap ; the cathedrals of St. Germain des
Pr6s and of St. Denis alone escaped at the cost of immense
bribes. Charles ordered two fortresses to be built for the
defence of the approaches to the bridges, and continued his
feeble policy of paying blackmail.

THE CARLO VINGIANS 37

In 866 Robert the Strong, Count of Paris, had won the
title of the Maccabeus of France, by daring to stand against
the fury of the Northmen and to defeat them ; but having
in the heat of battle with the terrible Hastings taken off
his cuirass, he was killed. In 876 began a second period
of raids of even greater ferocity under the Norwegian
Rollo the Gangr1 (the walker), a colossus so huge that no
horse could be found to bear him. In 884 the whole
Christian people seemed doomed to perish. Flourish-
ing cities and monasteries became heaps of smoking ruins ;
along the roads lay the bodies of priests and laymen,
noble and peasant, freeman and serf, women and children
and babes at the breast to be devoured of wolves
and vultures. The very sanctuaries2 were become the
dens of wild beasts, the haunt of serpents and creeping
things. Packs of wolves, three hundred strong, harried
Aquitaine.

In 885 a great league of pirates — Danes, Normans,
Saxons, Britons and renegade French — on their way to
ravage the rich cities of Burgundy drew up before Paris ;
and their leader, Siegfroy, demanded passage to the
higher waters. For Paris had now been put in a state
of defence, the Roman walls repaired, the bridges
fortified and protected by towers on the north and
south banks. Bishop Gozlin, in whom great learning
was wedded to incomparable fortitude, defied the pirates,
warning them that the citizens were determined to resist
and to hold Paris for a bulwark to the other cities of
France.

Paris, forsaken by her kings and emperors for more than a
century, scarred and bled by three sieges, was now to become
a beacon of hope to the wretched land of France. Of

1 The remains of the great Viking's castle are still shown at Aalesund,
in Norway.

2 When Allan Barbetorte, after the recovery of Nantes, went to give
thanks to God in the cathedral, he was compelled to cut his way, sword
in hand, through thorns and briers.

38 PARIS AND ITS STORY

the fourth and most terrible of the Norman sieges of
Paris, we have fuller record. A certain monk of St.
Germain des Pres, Abbo by name, had endured the siege
and was one day sitting in his cell reading his Virgil.
Desiring to exercise his Latin, and give an example to other
cities, he determined to sing of a great siege with happier
issue than that of Troy. J Abbo saw the black hulls and
horrid prows of the pirates' boats as they turned the arm
of the Seine below Paris, seven hundred strong vessels, and
many more of lighter build. For two leagues and a half
the very waters of the Seine were covered with them, and
men asked into what mysterious caves the river had
retreated. On November 26th, the attack began at the
unfinished tower on the north bank. Three leaders stand
eminent among the defenders of the city. Bishop Gozlin,
the great warrior priest ; his nephew, Abbot Ebles of St.
Denis ; and Count Eudes (Hugh) of Paris, son of Robert
the Strong. The air is darkened with javelins and arrows.
The abbot with one shaft spits seven of the besiegers, an<~
mockingly bids their fellows take them to the kitchen to
cooked. Bishop Gozlin is wounded by a javelin early ii
the attack. On the morrow, reinforced by fresh troops, th<
assault is renewed, stones are hurled, arrows whistle : the ah
is filled with groans and cries. The defenders pour dowi
boiling oil and melted wax and pitch. The hair of some oi
the Normans takes fire : they burn and the Parisians shout
— "Jump into the Seine to cool yourselves." One well-aimec
millstone, says Abbo, sends the souls of six to hell. The
baffled Northmen retire, entrench a camp at St. Germaii
l'Auxerrois, and prepare rams and other siege artillery.

Abbo now pauses to bewail the state of France: n<
lord to rule her, everywhere devastation wrought b]
fire and sword, God's people paralysed at the advanc-
ing phalanx of death, Paris alone tranquil, erect and stead-
fast in the midst of all their thunderbolts, polls ut regint

1 It must be admitted, however, that the poet's uncouth diction is any-
thing but Virgilian.

Wn/iiie.^'1"1"!!

ST. GERMAIN L AUXERROIS.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

micans omnes super urbes, like a queenly city resplendent
above all towns. The second attack begins with redoubled
fury. After battering the walls of the north tower,
monstrous machines on sixteen wheels are advanced and
the besiegers strive to fill the fosse. Trees, shrubs,
slaughtered cattle, wounded horses, the very captives slain
before the eyes of the besieged, are cast in to fill the void.
Bishop Gozlin brings down a Norman chieftain by a well-
aimed arrow : his body, too, is flung into the fosse. The
enemy cover the plain with their swords and the river with
their bucklers. Fireships are loosed against the bridge.
In the city women fly to the sanctuaries : they roll their
hair in the dust, beat their breasts and rend their faces.
They call on St. Germain : " Blessed St. Germain, succour
thy servants." The fighters on the walls take up the cry.
Bishop Gozlin invokes the Virgin, Mother of the Redeemer,
Star of the Sea, bright above all other stars, to save them
from the cruel Danes.

On February 6th, 886, a sudden flood sweeps away the
Petit Pont, and its tower, with twelve defenders, is isolated.
With shouts of triumph the Northmen cross the river
and surround it. The twelve refuse to yield, and fire is
brought. The warriors (a touching detail) fearing lest their
falcons be stifled, cut them loose. There is but one vessel
wherewith to quench the flames and that soon drops from
their hands. The little band rush forth, place themselves
against the ruins of the bridge, and prepare to sell their
lives dearly — terrible against terrible foes. The walls oi
the city are lined with their kinsmen and friends impotent
to help. The enemies of God, doomed one day to dine at
Pluto's cauldron, press upon them. They fight till Phoebus
sinks to the depths of the sea, so great is the courage oi
despair. They are promised their lives if they will yield,
are disarmed, then treacherously slain, and their souls fly to
heaven. But one, Herve, of noble bearing and of great
beauty, deemed a prince, is spared for ransom. With
thunderous voice he refuses to bargain his life for gold,

THE CARLO VINGIANS 41

falls unarmed on his foes and is cut to pieces. " These things,"
writes Monk Abbo, " I saw with mine eyes." He gives the
names of the heroic twelve who went to receive the palm of
martyrdom. They were exemplars to France and helped
to save her by their desperate courage and noble self-sacrifice.
Their names are inscribed on a tablet on the wing of the
Hotel Dieu in the Place au Petit Pont : Ermenfroi, Herve,
Herland, Ouacre, Hervi, Arnaud, Seuil, Jobert, Hardre,
Guy, Aimard, Gossouin.

A temporary relief is afforded by the arrival of Henry
of Saxony, sent with supplies by the emperor. Count
Eudes sallies forth to meet him, and in his ardent courage
outstrips his men, is surrounded and almost slain. The
little city is revictualled. Henry returns whence he came,
and again the Parisians are left to themselves. On the
sixth of April Bishop Gozlin, their shield, their two-edged
axe, whose shaft and bow were terrible, passes to the Lord.
On May 12th, Eudes steals away to implore further help
from the emperor, and as soon as he sees the imperialists on
the march returns and cuts his way into Paris, to share the
terrors of the siege. Henry the Saxon again appears, but is
ambushed and slain and his army melts away. Yet again
Paris is abandoned by her emperor and seeks help of
heaven. For the waters are low, the besiegers are able to
get footing on the island, they set fire to the gates and attack
the walls. The body of St. Genevieve is borne about the
city, and at night the ghostly figure of St. Germain is seen
by the sentinels to pass along the ramparts, sprinkling them
with holy water and promising salvation. Charles the Fat,
the Lord's anointed, at length appears with a multitude of a
hundred tongues and encamps on Montmartre. While the
Parisians are preparing to second him in crushing their foes,
they learn that the cowardly emperor has bought them off
with a bribe and permission to winter in Burgundy, and for
the first time they ravage that opulent province. Next year, as
Gozlin's successor, Bishop Antheric, was sitting at table with
Abbot Ebles, a fearful messenger brought news that the

PARIS AND ITS STORY

acephali l were again in sight. Forgetting the repast, the
two churchmen seized their weapons, called the city to arms,
hastened to the ramparts, and the abbot slew their pilot with
a well-aimed shaft. The Normans are terrified, and at length
a treaty is made with their leaders, who promised not to
ravage the Marne and some even entered Paris. But the
ill-disciplined hordes were hard to hold in and bands of
brigands, as soon as the ramparts were passed, began to
plunder and slew a score of Christian men. The Parisians in
their indignation sought out and — Evax ! Hurrah ! — found
five hundred Normans in the city and slew them. But the
bishop protected those that took refuge in his palace, instead
of killing them as he ought to have done — potius concidere
debens. For a time Paris had respite. Cowardly Charles
the Fat was deposed, and in 887 Count Eudes was acclaimed
king of France after his return from Aquitaine, whose duke
he had brought to subjection. He counselled a gathering
of all the peoples near Paris to make common cause against
the Normans. Abbo saw the proud Franks march in with
heads erect, the skilful and polished Aquitaines, the Bur-
gundians too prone to flight. But nothing came of it.

At the extreme north-east of Paris the Rue du Crimee
leads to a group of once barren hills, part of which is now
made into the Park of the Buttes Chaumont. Here, by the
Mount of the Falcon (Montfaucon2) in 892 King Eudes
fell upon an army of Northmen, who had come against Paris,
and utterly routed them. Antheric, the noble pastor, with
his virgin-like face, led three hundred footmen into the fight
and slew six hundred of the acephali. But Abbo's muse
now fails him. Eudes, noble Eudes, is no more worthy of
his office, and Christ's sheep are perishing. Where is the

1 Abbo's favourite epithet. They were without a head, for they knew
not Christ, the Head of Mankind.

2 In the Middle Ages and down to 1761 Montfaucon had a sinister
reputation. There stood the gallows of Paris, a great stone gibbet with
its three rows of chains, near the old Barriere du Combat, where the
present Rue de la Grange aux Belles abuts on the Boulevard de la
Villette.

THE CARLOVINGIANS 43

ancient prowess of France ? Three vices are working her
destruction : pride, the sinful charms of Venus {fceda
venustas veneris) and love of sumptuous garments* Her
people are arrayed in purple vesture, and wear cloaks of
gold ; their loins are cinctured with girdles rich with
precious stones. Monk Abbo wearies not of singing, but
the deeds of noble Eudes are wanting. All the poet craves
is another victory to rejoice Heaven ; another defeat of the
black host of the enemy.

But the noble Eudes was now a king with rebellious
vassals. Paris was never captured again, but the acephali
were devouring the land. The grim spectres of Famine
and Plague made a charnel-house of whole regions of
France, while Eudes was fighting the Count of Flanders, a
rival king, and the ineffectual emperor, Charles the Simple.
He it was who after Eudes' death, by the treaty of St Claire-
sur-Epte in 902, surrendered to the barbarians the fair
province, subsequently to be known as Normandy. The
new prayer in the Litany, " From the fury of the North-
men, good Lord deliver us," was heard. The dread
name of Rollo now vanishes from history to live again in
song, and under the title of Robert, assumed from his god-
father, he reappears to win a dukedom and a king's daughter.
The Normans are broken in to Christianity, law and order ;
their land becomes one of the most civilized regions of
France ; the fiercest of church levellers are known as the
greatest of church builders in Christendom. They gave
their name to a style of Christian architecture in Europe
and a line of kings to England,1 Naples and Sicily.

The new empire of Charlemagne had endured less than
three generations ; from its wreck were formed the seven
kingdoms of France, Navarre, the two Burgundies, Lorraine,
Italy and Germany. The people of France never forgot
the lesson of the dark century of the invasions. A subtle
change had been operating. The empire had decomposed
into kingdoms ; the kingdoms were segregating into lord-

1 William the Conqueror was also known as William the Builder.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

ships. Men in their need were attracted to the few strong
and dominant lords whose courage and resource afforded
them a rallying point and shelter against disintegrating
forces : the poor and defenceless huddled for protection to
the seigneurs of strongholds which had withstood the floods
of barbarians that were devastating the land. The seeds
of feudalism were sown in the long winter of the Norman
terror.

L'lNSTlTUT DE FRANCE.

CHAPTER IV

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS AND THE GROWTH

OF PARIS

From 936 to the coronation of Hugh Capet at Noyon in
987, the Carlovingians exercised a slowly decaying power.
The real rulers of France were Hugh the Tall and Hugh
Capet,1 grandson and great-grandson of Robert the Strong.
Lay abbots of St. Martin of Tours, St. Denis, and St. Germain,
Counts of Paris and Dukes of France, they pursued the
policy of the mayors of the palace in Merovingian times,
accepting the nominal kingship of the degenerate
Carlovingians — Louis from overseas, Lothaire, and Louis
the Lazy — until the time was ripe to pick up the fallen
sceptre. They founded a new line of kings of France
which stretches onward through history for a thousand years
until the guillotine of the Revolution cut it in twain. It is
Hugh Capet whom Dante, following a legend of his time,
calls the son of a butcher of Paris, and whom he hears
among the weeping souls cleaving to the dust and purging
their avarice in the fifth cornice of Purgatory.

Their patrimony was a small one — the provinces of the
Isle de France, La Brie, La Beauce, Beauvais and Valois ; but
their sway extended over the land of the Langue d'oil, with
its strenuous northern life, le doux royaume de la France^ the
sweet realm of France, cradle of the great French Monarchy
and home of art, learning and chivalry. The globe of the
earth, symbol of universal empire, gives way to the hand of
justice as the emblem of kingship. They were, it is true,
little more than seigneurs over other seigneurs, some of whom

1 The surname Capet is said to have originated in the capet or hood of
the abbot's mantle which Hugh wore as lay abbot of St. Martin's, having
laid aside the crown after his coronation.

46 PARIS AND ITS STORY

were almost as powerful as they ; but that little, the drop of
holy chrism by which they were consecrated of the Church,
contained within it a potency of future grandeur. They
were the Lord's anointed, supported by the Lord's Vicar
on earth : to disobey them was to disobey God. Tribal
sovereignty had now given way to territorial sovereignty.
Feudal lords and abbots were supreme within their own
domains. The people, long forsaken by their emperors, had
in their turn forsaken them. In order " not to be at the
mercy of all the great ones they surrendered themselves to
one of the great ones " and in exchange for protection gave
troth and service. Cities, churches and monasteries now
assumed a new aspect. Paris had demonstrated the value
of a walled city, for the dread Rollo himself had three times
assaulted it in vain. During the latter part of the Norman
terror, from all parts of North France, monks and nuns and
priests had brought their holy relics within its walls as to a
city of refuge. Gone were the lines of villas from Gallo-
Roman times extending freely into the country. Forti-
fications were everywhere raised around the dwelling-places
of men. The ample spaces within cities were soon to give
place to crowded houses and narrow streets. The might
of the archbishops, bishops and abbots increased : they sat
in the councils of kings and dominated the administration of
justice ; the moral, social and political life of the country
centred around them. Armed with the sword and the
cross they held almost absolute sway over their little
republics ; coined money, levied taxes, disposed of small
armies and went to the chase in almost regal state. The
land bristled with castles and fortified towns and abbeys, and
was parcelled out into territories of varying extent, from
great duchies equal to a dozen modern departments, to the
small domain just enough to maintain a single knight.

The advent of the year iooo was regarded with
universal terror in Christendom. A fear, based on a
supposed apocalyptic prophecy that the end of the world was
at hand, paralysed all political and social life. Churches

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS 47

were too small to contain the immense throngs of
fearful penitents : legacies and donations from conscience-
stricken worshippers poured wealth into their treasuries.
But once the awe-inspiring night of the vernal equinox that
began the year 1000 had passed, and the bright March sun
rose again on the fair earth, unconsumed by the wrath of
God, the old world "seemed to thrill with new life; the
earth cast offher out-worn garments and clothed herself in a
rich and white vesture of new churches." Everywhere in
Europe, and especially in France, men strove in emulation to
build the finest temples to God. The wooden roofs of the
Merovingian and Carlovingian basilicas had ill withstood
the ravage of war and fire. Stone took the place of wood,
the heavy thrust of the roof led to increased mural strength,
walls were buttressed, columns thickened. Massive
towers of defence, at first round, then polygonal, then
square, flanked the west fronts, veritable keeps, where the
sacred vessels and relics might be preserved and defended
in case of attack. Soon spaces are clamant for decoration, the
stone soars into the beauty of Gothic vaulting and tracery,
" the solid and lofty shafts ascend and press onward in agile
files, and in the sacred gloom are like unto an army of
giants that meditate war with invisible powers."1

The Capets are more intimately associated with the
growth of Paris than any of the earlier dynasties, and at
no period in French history is the ecclesiastical expansion
more marked. Under the long reign of Hugh's son, King
Robert the Pious, no less than fourteen monasteries and
seven churches were built or rebuilt in or around the city.
A new and magnificent palace and hall of Justice, with its
royal chapel dedicated to St. Nicholas, rose on the site of the
old Roman basilica and palace in the Cite. The king was
no less charitable than pious. Troops of the poor and
afflicted followed him when he went abroad, and he fed a
thousand daily at his table. But notwithstanding his
munificent piety, he was early made to feel the power of the

1 Carducci. In una Chiesa gotica.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Church. His union with Queen Bertha, a cousin of the
fourth degree, whom he had married a year before his
accession, was condemned by the pope as incestuous, and he
was summoned to repudiate her. Robert, who loved his
wife dearly, resisted the papal authority, and excommunication
and interdict followed.1 Everyone fled from him ; only the
servants are said to have remained, who purged with fire all
the vessels which were contaminated by the guilty couple's
touch. The misery of his people at length subdued the
king's spirit, and he cast off his faithful and beloved queen.

The beautiful and imperious Constance of Aquitaine, her
successor, proved a penitential infliction second only in
severity to the anathemas of the Church. Troops of vain
and frivolous troubadours from her southern home, in
all kinds of foreign and fantastic costumes, invaded the
court and shocked the austere piety of the king. He
perceived the corrupting influence on the simple manners
of the Franks of their licentious songs, lascivious music
and dissolute lives, but was powerless to dismiss them.
The tyrannous temper of his new consort became the
torment of his life. He was forced even to conceal his acts
of charity. One day, on returning from prayers, he perceived
that his lance by the queen's orders had been adorned with
richly chased silver. He looked around his palace and was
not long in finding a poor, tattered wretch whom he ordered
to search for a tool, and the pair locked themselves in a room.
The silver was soon stripped from the lance and the king
hastily thrust it into the beggar's wallet and bade him escape
before the queen discovered the loss. The poor whom he
admitted to his table, despite the angry protests of the queen,
at times ill repaid his charity. On one occasion a tassel of gold
was cut from his robe, and on the thief being discovered the
king simply remarked : " Well, perhaps he has greater need
of it than I, may God bless its service to him." The very
fringe was sometimes stripped from his cloak as he walked

1 A dramatic representation of the delivery of the papal bull, painted
by Jean Paul Laurens, hangs in the museum of the Luxembourg.

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS 49

abroad, but he never could be induced to punish any of these
poor sp6ilers of his person. There is, however, an obverse
to this ardent piety and noble enthusiasm : — the merciless
persecution and spoliation of the Jews and the first executions
of heretics x recorded in France.

In 1022 two priests, one of whom had been the queen's
confessor, and eleven laymen were condemned to be burnt at
the stake at Orleans for heresy. The king spent nine hours
wrestling with them in prayer and argument, but in vain. As
the unhappy wretches were being led to execution, Constance
leaned forward, savagely struck at her old confessor and
gouged out one of his eyes. She was applauded for her
zeal.

The economic condition of the people was far from satis-
factory. Famine and pestilence claimed their victims with
appalling frequency, and between 970 and 1040, forty-eight
famines and plagues are known to historians ; that of 1033
is recounted by the chronicler, Raoul Glaber, with details
so ghastly that the heart sickens and the hand faints at
their transcription. Slavery existed everywhere : it was
regarded as an integral part of the divine order of things.
The Church aimed at alleviating the lot of the slave, not at
abolishing slavery. At a division of serfs, held in common
between the priors of two abbeys in 1087, the children were
shared, male and female, without any reference to their parents.
Archbishops fulminated against serfs who tried to escape
from their lords, quoting the words of the apostle : u Serfs
be subject in all things to your masters." A serf was valued
at so much money, like a horse or an ox. The serfs of the
Church at Paris were sent to the law courts to give evidence
for their bishop or prior, or to do battle for them in the
event of a judicial duel. The freemen in the eleventh
century began to rebel against fighting with a despised serf,
and refused the duel, whereupon early in the next century

1 It must be remembered that heresy was the solvent anti-social force
of the age, and was regarded with the same feelings of abhorrence as
anarchist doctrines are regarded by modern statesmen.

5o PARIS AND ITS STORY

the king and his court decided that the serfs might lawfully
testify and fight against freemen, and whoso refused the trial
by battle should lose his suit and suffer excommunication.
The prelates exchanged serfs, used them as substitutes in
times of war, allowed them to marry outside their church or
abbey only by special permission and on condition that all
children were equally divided between the two proprietors.
If a female serf married a freeman he and their children
became serfs. Serfs were only permitted to make a will by
consent of their master ; every favour was paid for and
liberty bought at a great price. Whole bourgades were
often in a state of serfdom. Merchants even and artizans
in towns owed part of their produce to the seigneur. In
the eleventh century burgesses as well as serfs and Jews
were given to churches, exchanged, sold or left in wills by
their seigneurs. The story of mediaeval France is the
story of the efforts of serf and burgess to win their
economic freedom J and of her kings to tame the insolence of
disobedient vassals and to make their shadowy kingship a
real thing. And the story of mediaeval France is closed only
by the great Revolution.

The declining years of King Robert were embittered by
the impiety of rebellious sons, who were reduced to submission
only at the price of a protracted and bloody campaign in
Burgundy. The broken-hearted father did not long survive
his victory. He died in his palace at Melun in 1031, and
the benisons and lamentations of the poor and lowly winged his
spirit to its rest. If we may believe some writers, pious
King Robert's memory is enshrined in the hymnology of the
Church, which he enriched with some beautiful compositions
he was often seen to enter St. Denis in regal habit to
lead the choir at matins, and would sometimes challenge the
monks to a singing contest ; once, it is said, when im-
portuned by his queen to immortalise her name in song,

1 The Rue des Francs Bourgeois in Paris reminds us that there dwelt
those who were free to move without the consent of their feudal
superiors.

Hotel Gerouilhac

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS 51

he began, "O Constantia Martyrum ! " The delighted
Constance heard no further and was satisfied.

Scarcely had the grave closed over the dead king at St.
Denis when Constance plotted with some of the nobles to
place Robert, her youngest and favourite son, on the
throne in place of Henry, the rightful heir, who fled to
Normandy to implore the aid of Duke Robert. The
cultivation of the arts of peace had not enfeebled the
fighting powers of the Normans. Robert fell upon the
queen's supporters with reckless x bravery and crushed them
in three decisive battles. Henry gained his crown but at
the cost of a big slice of territory which advanced the
Norman boundary to within twenty leagues of Paris. The
queen survived her humiliation but a short time, and her
death at Melun in 1032 and Henry's generosity to his
enemies gave peace to the kingdom.

In 1053, towards the end of Henry's almost unchronicled
reign, an alarming rumour came to Paris. The priests of
St. Ermeran at Ratisbon claimed to have possession of
the body of St. Denis, which they alleged had been stolen
from the abbey in 892 by one Gisalbert. The loss of a
province would not have evoked livelier emotion, and Henry
at once took measures to convince France and Christendom
that the true body was still at St. Denis. Before an immense
concourse of bishops, abbots, princes and people, presided
over by the king, his brother and the archbishops of
Rheims and of Canterbury, the remains of St. Denis and his
two companions were solemnly drawn out of the silver
coffers in which they had been placed, by Dagobert, together
with a nail from the cross and part of the crown of thorns,
all locked with two keys in a kind of cupboard richly adorned
with gold and precious stones, and preserved in a vault
under the high altar. After having been borne in proces-
sion they were exposed on the high altar for fifteen days and
then restored to their resting-place. The stiff-necked priests

1 It was the conduct of this campaign that won for Robert the title of
Robert the Devil.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

of Ratisbon, fortified with a papal bull of 1052, still
maintained their claim to the possession of the body, but no
diminution was experienced in the devotion either of the
French peoples or of strangers of all nations to the relics at
St. Denis.

The chief architectural event of Henry's reign at
Paris was the rebuilding on a more magnificent scale of
the Merovingian church and abbey of St. Martin in the
Fields (des Champs), whose blackened walls and desolate
lands were eloquent of the Norman terror. The buildings
stood outside Paris about a mile beyond the Cite on the
great Roman road to the north, where St. Martin on his
way to Paris healed a leper. The foundation, which soon
grew to be one of the wealthiest in France, included a hostel
for poor pilgrims endowed by Philip I. with a mill on the
Grand Pont, to which the monks added the revenue from
an oven.1

In the eighteenth century, when the monastery was
secularised, the abbot was patron of twenty-nine priories,
three vicarates and thirty-five parishes, five of which were
in Paris. Some of the old building has been incorporated
in the existing Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers. The
Gothic priory chapel, with its fine twelfth -century choir,
is used as a machinery-room, and the refectory, one of the
most precious and beautiful creations attributed to Pierre
de Montereau, is now a library.

Philip I. brought to the indolent habit inherited from
his father a depraved and vicious nature. After a regency
of eight years he became king at the age of fifteen, and
lived to defile his youth and dishonour his manhood by
debauchery and adultery, simony and brigandage. Earl]
in his career he followed the evil counsels of his provost
Etienne, and purposed the spoliation of the treasury of St.

1 The possession of an oven was a lucrative monopoly in mediaeval
times. The writer knows of a village in South Italy where this curious
privilege is still possessed by the parish priest, who levies a small indem-
nity of a few loaves, made specially of larger size, for each use of the oven.

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS 53

Germain des Pres to pay for his dissolute pleasures. ° As the
sacrilegious pair," says the chronicler, " drew near the relics,
Etienne was smitten with blindness and the terrified Philip
fled." Simony rilled his gaping purse ; bishoprics and
other preferments were openly sold to the highest bidder,
and one day when an abbot complained that he had
been kept waiting while a rich competitor for a
bishopric had been admitted, the king answered : " Wait
a while until I have made my money of him ; I will
then accuse him of simony, and you shall have the
reversion."

Regal irresponsibility led in 1092 to a greater
crime. Most popular of the twelfth-century stories
sung by the trouveres of North France was that of
Tortulf, the Breton outlaw, the Robin Hood of his day,
who won by his prowess against the Normans the
lordship of rich lands by the Loire, and with his
son, Ingelar, founded the famous house of Anjou. In
1092 Foulques de Rechin, lord of Anjou — whose handsome
grandson Geoffrey, surnamed Plantagenet from the sprig
of broom [genet) he wore in his helmet, was to father a
race of English kings — had to wife Bertrarde, fairest of the
ladies of France, whose two predecessors had been cast off
like vile courtesans. Philip, when on a visit to the count
at Tours became inflamed with passion at beholding her, and
she was easily induced to elope with him under the promise
that she should share his throne.. His queen, Bertha,
mother of his two children, was pitilessly driven from his
bed and imprisoned at Montreuil, and two of his venal
bishops were found to bestow the blessings of the Church
on the new union. But the thunder of Rome came swift
and terrible. Philip laid aside his crown and sceptre,
grovelled before the pontiff, and implored forgiveness, but
continued to live with his mistress. Next year a new pope
excommunicated the guilty pair and laid their kingdom
under the ban. The same Council, however, of Clermont,
which fulminated against Philip, stirred Christendom to the

PARIS AND ITS STORY

first crusade, and in the magnificent enthusiasm of the
moment Philip was permitted to live outwardly submissive
but secretly rebellious. He crowned Bertrarde at Troyes,
and lived on his vicious life, while Bertha was dying of a
broken heart in her prison at Montreuil. Monkish legends
tell of the excommunicated king languishing, a scrofulous
wretch, in a deserted court ; but there is little doubt that the
impious monarch died, tardily repentant, at his palace at
Melun, after a reign of nearly half a century. It was a reign
void of honour or profit to France. He left his son Louis
VI. (the Lusty) a heritage of shame, a kingdom reduced
to little more than a baronage over a few comtes, whose cities
of Paris, Etampes, Orleans and Sens were isolated from
royal jurisdiction by insolent and rebellious vassals, one of
whom, the Seigneur de Puisset, had inflicted a disgraceful
defeat on Philip in 1081. Many of the great seigneurs
were but freebooters, living by plunder. The violence and
lawlessness of these and other smaller scoundrels, who
levied blackmail on merchants and travellers, made com-
merce almost impossible. Corruption, too, had invaded
many of the monasteries and fouled the thrones of bishops,
and a dual effort was made by king and Church to remedy
the evils of the times. The hierarchy strove to centralise
power at Rome that the Church might be purged of
wolves in sheep's clothing : the Capetian monarchs to
increase their might at Paris in order to subdue insolent and
powerful vassals to law and obedience.

In 1097 tne Duke of Burgundy learned that Archbishop
Anselm of Canterbury was about to pass through his
territory with a rich escort on his way to Rome. The
usual ambush was laid and the party were held up. As the
duke hastened to spoil his victims, crying out — " Where is
the archbishop ? " he turned and saw Anselm, impassive on
his horse, gazing sternly at him. In a moment the savage
and lawless duke was transformed to a pallid, stammering
wretch with downcast eyes, begging permission to kiss the
old man's hand and to offer him a noble escort to safeguard

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS $$

him through his territory. It was the moral influence of
prelates such as this and monks such as St. Bernard that
enabled the hierarchy to enforce the celibacy of the clergy,
to cleanse the bishoprics and abbeys, to wrest the privilege
of conferring benefices from lay potentates and feudal
seigneurs who bartered them for money, and to make and
unmake kings.

The end of the eleventh and the beginning of the
twelfth centuries saw the culmination of the power of the
reformed orders. All over France, religious houses — the
Grande Chartreuse, Fontevrault, Citeaux, Clairvaux — sprang
up as if by enchantment. Men and women of all stations and
classes flocked to them, a veritable host of the Lord, " adorn-
ing the deserts with their holy perfection and solitudes by
their purity and righteousness." " How fair a thing it is,"
exclaims St. Bernard, c< to live in perfect unity ! One weeps
for his sins ; another sings praises to the Lord. One teaches
the sciences ; another prays. One leads the active ; another
the contemplative, life. One burns with charity ; another
is prone in humility. Nought is here but the house of
God and the very gate of heaven."

St. Bernard was the terror of mothers and of wives. His
austerity, his loving-kindness,1 his impetuous will and master-
ful activity, his absolute faith and remorseless logic, his lyric
and passionate eloquence, carried all before him. St. Bernard
was the dictator of Christendom ; he it was who with pity-
ing gesture as of a kind father, his eyes suffused with
tender joy, received Dante from the hands of Beatrice in
the highest of celestial spheres, and after singing the
beautiful hymn to the Virgin, led him to the heaven of
heavens, to the very ecstasy and culmination of beatitude in
the contemplation and comprehension of the triune God
Himself. But religious no less than seculars are subdued
by what they work in. Already in the tenth century
Richer complained that the monks of his time were be-
ginning to wear rich ornaments and flowing sleeves, and
1 He was said to be " kind even to Jews."

PARIS AND ITS STORY

with their tight-fitting garments ' looked like harlots rather
than monks.

In the polluting atmosphere of Philip's reign matters
grew worse. St. Bernard denounced the royal abbey of
St. Denis as " a house of Satan, a den of thieves." " The
walls of the churches of Christ were resplendent with
colour but His poor were naked and left to perish ;
their stones were gilded with the money of the needy
and wretched to charm the eyes of the rich." " Bishops
dressed like women ; the successors of St. Peter rode
about on white mules, loaded with gold and precious
stones, apparelled in fine silk, surrounded with soldiers and
followed by a brilliant train. They were rather the suc-
cessors of Constantine."

In 1095 tne task °f cleansing the Abbey of St. Maur des
Fosses seemed so hopeless, that the abbot resigned in despair
rather than imperil his soul, and a more resolute reformer
was sought. In 1 107 the bishop of Paris was commanded by
Rome to proceed to the abbey of St. Eloy and extirpate
the evils there flourishing. The nuns, it was reported,
had so declined in grace, owing to the proximity of the
court and intercourse with the world, that they had lost all
sense of shame and lived in open sin, breaking the bonds
of common decency. The scandal was so great that the
bishop determined to cut them off from the house of the
Lord. The abbey was reduced to a priory and given
over to the abbot of the now reformed monastery of St.
Maur, and its vast lands were parcelled out into several
parishes.2 The rights of the canons of Notre Dame were
to be maintained ; on St. Eloy's day the abbot of St. Maur
was to furnish them with six pigs, two and a half measures

1 The indignant scribe is most precise : they walked abroad artatis
clunibus et protensis natibus.

2 The reformers always discover the nunneries to be so much more
corrupt than the monasteries, but it is a little suspicious that in every case
the former are expropriated to the latter. The abbot of St. Maur
evidently had some qualms concerning the expropriation of St. Eloy, and
wished to restore it to the bishop.

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS 57

of wine and three of fine wheat, and on St. Paul's day with
eight sheep, the same quantity of wine, six crowns and one
obole. The present Rue de la Cite and the Boulevard du
Palais give approximately the east and west boundaries of
the suppressed abbey, part of whose site is now occupied by
the Prefecture de Police.

But the way of the reformer is a hard one At the
Council of Paris, 1074, the abbot of Pontoise was severely
ill-treated for supporting, against the majority of the
Council, the pope's decrees excluding married clerics from
the churches. The reform of the canons of Notre Dame led
to exciting scenes. Bishop Stephen of Senlis was sent in
1 128 to introduce the new discipline, but the archdeacons
and canons, supported by royal favour, resisted, and Bishop
Stephen was stripped of his revenues and hastened back to his
metropolitan, the archbishop of Sens. The archbishop laid
Paris under interdict and the influence of St. Bernard himself
was needed to compose the quarrel.

On Sunday, August 20, 1133, when returning from a
visitation to the abbey of Chelles, the abbot and prior of
St. Victor were ambushed and the prior was stabbed. Some
years later, in the reign of Louis VII., Pope Eugene III.
came to seek refuge in Paris from the troubles excited at
Rome by the revolution of Arnold of Brescia. When
celebrating mass before the king at the abbey church of St.
Genevieve the canons had stretched a rich, silken carpet be-
fore the altar on which the pontiff's knees might rest. When
the pope retired to the sacristy to disrobe, his officers claimed
the carpet, according to usage ; the canons and their servants
resisted, and there was a bout of fisticuffs and sticks. The
king intervened, and anointed majesty himself was struck.
A scuffle ensued, during which the carpet was torn to
shreds in a tug-of-war between the claimants. Here was
urgent need for reform. The pope decided to introduce the
new discipline and appointed a fresh set of canons. The
dispossessed canons met them with insults and violence,
drowned their voices by howling and other indignities, and

PARIS AND ITS STORY

only ceased on being threatened with the loss of their eyes
and other secular penalties.

Louis the Lusty was the pioneer of the great French
Monarchy. He had none of Philip's indolence, and was ever
on the move, hewing his way, sword in hand, through his
domains, subduing the violence, and burning and razing the
castles of his insolent and disobedient vassals. The famous
Suger, abbot of St. Denis, was his wise and firm counseller,
and led the Church to make common cause with him and
lend her diocesan militia. It was a poor bald cure who, when
all else despaired, led the assault on the keep of the castle of
Le Puisset ; he seized on a plank of wood, assailed the pali-
sade, calling on the hesitating royal troops to follow him ;
they were shamed by his bravery and the castle was won.

The social revolution known as the enfranchisement of the
commons and the growth of towns begins in the reign of
Louis VI. The king would have the peasant to till, the monk
to pray, and the pilgrim and merchant to travel in peace.
He was an itinerant regal justiciary, destroying the nests of
brigands, purging the land with fire and sword from tyranny
and oppression. Wise in council, of magnificent courage in
battle, he was the first of the Capetians to associate the
cause of the people with that of the monarchy. They
loved him as a valiant soldier-king, destroyer and tamer of
feudal tyrants, the protector of the Church, the vindicator
of the oppressed. He lifted the sceptre of France from the
mire and made of it a symbol of firm and just government.

It is in Louis VI.'s reign that we have first mention of
the Oriflamme (golden flame) of St . Denis, which took the
place of St. Martin's cloak as the royal standard of France.
The Emperor Henry V. with a formidable army was menac-
ing France. Louis rallied all his friends to withstand him
and went to St. Denis to pray for victory. The abbot took
from the altar the standard — famed to have been sent by
heaven, and formerly carried by the first liege man of the
abbey, the Count de Vexin, when the monastery was in
danger of attack — and handed it to the king. The sacred

THE RISE OF THE CAPETIAN KINGS 59

banner was fashioned of silk in the form of a gonfalon,
of the colours of fire and gold, and was suspended at the
head of a gilded lance.

There was a solemn ceremony, the Remise des corps saints ',
at the royal abbey when the king returned with his court to
give thanks and to restore the banner to the altar. He
carried the relics of the holy martyrs o\\ his shoulders in
procession, then replaced them whence they were taken
and made oblations. A yet more superb spectacle was
given to the Parisians when Pope Innocent II., a refugee
from the violence of the anti-papal party at Rome, came to
celebrate the Easter mass at St. Denis. The pope and his
cardinals were mounted on fair steeds, barons and seigneurs
on foot led the pope's white horse by the bridle. As he
passed, the Jews presented him with a scroll of the law
wrapped in a veil — " May it please God to remove the veil
from your hearts," answered the pope. The solemn mass
ended, pope and cardinals repaired to the cloisters where
tables were spread with the Easter feast. They first partook
of the Paschal lamb, reclining on the carpet in the fashion of
the ancients, then, rising, took their places at table. After
the repast a magnificent procession went its way to Paris, to
be met by the whole city with King Louis and Prince
Philip at their head.

The manner of the young prince's tragic death
gives an insight into the state of a mediaeval town.
He was riding one day for amusement in the streets
of Paris, attended by one esquire, when a pig ran be-
tween his horse's feet ; the lad was thrown and died
before the last sacraments could be administered. He was
only fourteen years of age, and all France wept for him.

The strenuous reign of Louis was marked by a great
expansion of Paris, which became more than ever the
ordinary dwelling-place of the king and the seat of his
government. The market, now known as Les Halles, was
established at a place called Champeaux, belonging to St.
Denis of the Prison. William of Champeaux founded the

PARIS AND ITS STORY

great abbey of St. Victor,1 famed for its sanctity and learning,
where Abelard taught and St. Thomas of Canterbury and
St. Bernard lodged. At the urgent prayer of his wife
Adelaide, the king built a nunnery at Montmartre, and
lavishly endowed it with lands, ovens, the house of Guerri,
a Lombard money-changer, some shops and a slaughter-
house in Paris, and a small bourg, still known as Bourg-la-
Reine, about five miles south of the city. Certain rights
of fishing at Paris, to which Louis VII. added five thousand
herrings yearly from the port of Boulogne, were also granted.
The churches of Ste. Genevieve la Petite, founded to
commemorate the miraculous staying of the plague of the
burning sickness (les ar dents) ; of St. Jacques de la Boucherie ;
and of St. Pierre aux Bceufs, so named from the heads of
oxen carved on the portal, were also built.

1 The abbey was suppressed at the time of the Revolution, and the
site is now occupied by the Halle aux Vins.

CHAPTER V

PARIS UNDER PHILIP AUGUSTUS AND ST. LOUIS

During the twenty-eight years of the reign of J^ouis VII.
no heir to the crown was born. At length, on the 22nd of
August, 1 165, Adelaide of Champagne, his third wife, lay
in child-bed and excited crowds thronged the palace. The
king, "afeared of the number of his daughters and knowing
how ardently his people desired a child of the nobler sex,"
was beside himself with joy when the desire of his heart
was held up to him. The chamber was closed, but curious
eyes had espied the longed-for heir through an aperture of the
door and in a moment the good news was spread abroad.
There was a sound of clarions and of bells and the city
as by enchantment shone with an aureole of light.
An English student roused by the uproar and the glare
of what seemed like a great conflagration leapt to the
window and beheld two old women hurrying by with
lighted tapers. He asked the cause. They answered
" God has given us this night a royal heir, by
whose hand your king shall suffer shame and ill-hap."
This was the birth of Philip le Dieu donne — Philip sent
of Heaven — better known as Philip Augustus. Under him
and Louis IX. mediaeval Paris, faithfully reflecting the
fortunes of the French Monarchy, attained its highest
development.

When Philip Augustus took up the sceptre at fifteen
years of age, the little realm of the Isle de France was
throttled by a ring of great and practically independent
feudatories, and in extent was no larger than half-a-dozen
of the eighty-seven departments into which France is now
divided. In thirty years Philip had burst through to the

62 PARIS AND ITS STORY

sea, subdued the Duke of Burgundy and the great
counts, wrested the sovereignty of Normandy, Brittany
and Maine from the English Crown, won Poitou and
Aquitaine, crushed the emperor and his vassals in
the memorable battle of Bouvines, and become one
of the greatest of European monarchs. The English
king was humiliated by the invasion of his territory by
Prince Louis, afterwards Louis VIII., who overran nearly
the whole of the east of England, captured Rochester
and Winchester, and received the barons' homage at
London.

The victory of Bouvines evoked that ideal of moral and
material and national unity which the later kings of France
were to realise. The progress of Philip towards Paris was
one long triumph. Peasants and mechanics dropped their
tools to gaze on the dread iron Count of Flanders, captive
and wounded. The king, who had owed his life to the ex-
cellence of his armour,1 was received in Paris with a frenzy of
joy. The whole city came forth to meet him, flowers were
strewn in his path, the streets were hung with tapestry, Te
Deums sung in all the churches, and for seven days and
nights the popular enthusiasm expressed itself in dance, in
song and joyous revel. It was the first national event in
France. The Count of Flanders was imprisoned in the
new fortress of the Louvre, where he lay for thirteen years,
with ample leisure to meditate on the fate of rebellious
feudatories. " Never after was war waged on King Philip,
but he lived in peace."

Two vast undertakings make the name of Philip
Augustus memorable in Paris — the beginning of the paving
of the city and the building of its girdle of walls and
towers.

One day as Philip stood at the window of his palace,

1 In the ardour of the fight the king found himself surrounded by
the enemy's footmen, was unhorsed, and while they were vainly seeking
for a vulnerable spot in his armour some French knights had time to rescue
him.

St. Etienne du Mont and Tour de Clovis

PARIS UNDER PHILIP AUGUSTUS 63

where he was wont to amuse himself by watching the Seine
flow by, some carts rattled along the muddy road beneath
the window and stirred so foul and overpowering an odour
that the king almost fell sick. Next day the provost and
the sheriffs and chief citizens were sent for and ordered to
set about paving the city with stone. The work was not
however completed until the reign of Charles V., a century
and a half later. It was done well and lasted till the six-
teenth century, when it was replaced by the miserable
cobbles, known as the pavement of the League. Whether
the city grew much sweeter is doubtful ; certainly Paris in
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was as evil-smelling
as ever. Montaigne, in the second half of the sixteenth
century, complains that the acrid smell of the mud of
Paris weakened the affection he bore to that fair city,
and Howell writes in 1620, "the city is always dirty,
and by perpetual motion the mud is beaten into a thick,
black and unctuous oil that sticks so that no art can wash it
off, and besides the indelible stain it leaves, gives so strong
a scent that it may be smelt many miles off, if the wind
be in one's face as one comes from the fresh air of the
country."

The great fortified wall of Philip Augustus began at the
north-west water-tower, which stood just above the present
Pont des Arts, and passed through the quadrangle of the
Louvre where a line on the paving marks its course to the
Porte St. Honore, near the Oratoire. It continued north-
wards by the Rue du Jour to the Porte Montmartre, whose
site is marked by a tablet on No. 30 Rue Montmartre.
Turning eastward by the Painters' Gate f 135 Rue St. Denis)
and the Porte St. Martin, near the Rue Grenier St. Lazare,
the fortification described a curve in a south-easterly direc-
tion by the Rue des Francs Bourgeois, where traces of
the wall have been found in the Cour de l'Horloge of
the Mont de Pi6t6, and of a tower at No. 57. The line
of the wall continued in the same direction by the Lycee
Charlemagne, No. 131 Rue St. Antoine, where stood another

PARIS AND ITS STORY

gate, to the north-east water-tower, known as the Tour
Barbeau, which stood near No. 32 Quai des Celestins. The
opposite or southern division began at the south-east water-
tower, La Tournelle, and the Gate of St. Bernard on the
present Quai de la Tournelle, and went southward by the
Rues des Fosses, St. Bernard and Cardinal Lemoine, to the
Porte St. Victor, near No. 2 Rue des Ecoles. The wall then
turned westward by the Rue Clovis, where at No. 7 one of
the largest and best-preserved remains may be seen. It
enclosed the abbey of St. Genevieve,
and the Pantheon stands on the site of
the Porte Papale. The south-western
angle was turned near the end of the Rue
Soufflot and the beginning of the Rue
Monsieur le Prince. In a northerly
direction it then followed the line of the
latter street, crossing the Boulevard St.
Germain, and continued by the Rue de
l'Ancienne Comedie. In the Cour de
Rouen, No. 61 Rue St. Andre des Arts,
an important remnant may be seen
with the base of a tower. We may
now trace the march of the wall and
towers by the Rues Mazarin and
Guenegaud, where at No. 29 other
fragments exist, to the south-west water-tower, the notorious
Tour de Nesle T whose site is occupied by the Hotel des

1 Jeanne de Bourgogne, queen of Philip le Long, lived at the Hotel de
Nesle, and is said to have seduced scholars by night into the tower,
had them tied in sacks and flung into the Seine. If we may believe
Villon, this was the queen —

"Qui commanda que Buridan
Fust jette en ung sac en Seine."

Legend adds that the schoolman, made famous by his thesis, that if an ass
were placed equidistant between two bundles of hay of equal attraction
he would die of hunger before he could resolve to eat either, was saved
by his disciples, who placed a barge, loaded with straw, below the tower
to break his fall.

WALL OF PHILIPPE AUGUSTE,
COUR DE ROUEN.

PARIS UNDER PHILIP AUGUSTUS 6s

Monnaies. The passage of the Seine was blocked by
chains, which were drawn at night from tower to tower
and fixed on boats and piles. The wall was twenty years
building and was completed in 121 1. It was eight feet
thick, pierced by twenty-four gates and fortified by about
five hundred towers. Much of the land it enclosed was
not built upon ; the marais (marshes) on the north bank
were drained and cultivated and became market and fruit
gardens.

The moated chateau of the Louvre, another of Philip's
great buildings, stood outside the wall and commanded the
valley route to Paris. It was at once a fortress, a palace and
a prison. Parts of two wings of the structure are incor-
porated in the present palace of the Louvre, and the site of
the remaining wings, the massive keep and the towers are
marked out on the pavement of the quadrangle.

Many are the stories ot the great king's wisdom. One
day, entering the chapter-house of Notre Dame during the
election of a bishop, Philip seized a crozier and passing
along the assembled canons thrust it into the hands of one
of lean and poor aspect, saying : " Here, take this, that you
may wax fat like your brethren. " His jester once claimed
to be of his family through their common father Adam,
and complained that the heritage had been badly divided.
" Well," said the king, (< come to me to-morrow and I will re-
store what is due to thee." Next day, in the presence of his
court, he handed the jester a farthing, saying : u Here is thy
just portion. When I shall have shared my wealth with each
of thy brothers, barely a farthing will remain to me."

One of the royal bailiffs coveted the land of a poor knight,
who refused to sell. The knight at length died, and the
widow proving equally stubborn, the bailiff went to the market-
place, hired two porters whom he dressed decently, and
repaired with them by night to the cemetery where the dead
chevalier lay buried. His body was drawn from the tomb
and held upright while the bailiff abjured it to agree before
the two witnesses to a sale of the land. " Silence gives

66 PARIS AND ITS STORY

consent," said the bailiff, and placed a coin in the corpse's
hand. The tomb was closed and the land seized on the
morrow, despite the widow's protests. On the case being
brought before the judgment-seat of Philip in the palace of
the Cite, the two porters bore witness to the sale. The king,
suspecting the truth, led one of the witnesses aside and bade
him recite a paternoster. While the man was murmuring the
prayer the king was heard of all the court loudly saying :
" Yes, that is so : you speak truly." The recital over, the
king assured him of pardon, and returning to the second
witness, admonished him also not to lie, for his friend had
revealed all as truly as if he had said a paternoster. The
second witness confessed. The bailiff, praying for mercy,
fell prostrate before the king, who condemned the guilty
man to banishment for life, and ordered the whole of his
possessions to be escheated to the poor widow.

Of the impression that the Paris of Philip Augustus made

on a provincial visitor, we are able, fortunately, to give some

account. "I am at Paris," writes Guy of Bazoches, about the

end of the twelfth century, "in this royal city, where the

abundance of nature's gifts not only retains those that dwel

there but invites and attracts those who are afar off. Evei

as the moon surpasses the stars in brightness, so does thii

city, the seat of royalty, exalt her proud head above all othei

cities. She is placed in the bosom of a delicious valley, ii

the centre of a crown of hills, which Ceres and Bacchus enricl

with, their gifts. The Seine, that proud river which comes

from the east, flows there through wide banks and with its

two arms surrounds an island which is the head, the heart

and the marrow of the whole city. Two suburbs extend

right and left, even the lesser of which would rouse the envy

many another city. These suburbs communicate with th<

island by two stone bridges ; the Grand Pont towards th(

north in the direction of the English sea, and the Peti

Pont which looks towards the Loire. The former bridge,

broad, rich, commercial, is the centre of a fervid activity,

and innumerable boats surround it laden with merchandise

SAINT LOUIS 67

and riches. The Petit Pont belongs to the dialecticians,
who pace up and down disputing. In the island adjacent
to the king's palace, which dominates the whole town, the
palace of philosophy is seen where study reigns alone as
sovereign, a citadel of light and immortality."

After Louis VIII.'s brief reign of three years, there rises
to the throne of France one of the gentlest and noblest of
the sons of men, a prince indeed, who, amid all the tempta-
tions of absolute power maintained a spotless life, and at
death laid down an earthly crown to assume a fairer and an
imperishable diadem among the saints in heaven. All that
was best in mediaevalism — its desire for peace and order and
justice ; its fervent piety, its passion to effect unity among
Christ's people and to wrest the Holy Land from the
pollution of the infidel ; its enthusiasm for learning and
for the things of the mind ; its love of beauty — all are
personified in the life of St. Louis.

The young prince was eleven years of age when his
father died. During his minority he was nurtured in learn-
ing and piety x by his mother, Blanche of Castile, whose
devotion to her son, and firm and wise regency were a
fitting prelude to the reign of a saintly king. Even after
he attained his majority, Louis always sought his mother's
counsel and was ever respectful and submissive to her will.
When the news of her death reached him in the Holy
Land, he went to his oratory, fell on his knees before the
altar, submissive to the will of God, and cried out with
tears in his eyes, that he had loved the queen, " his most
dear lady and mother, beyond all mortal creatures."

The king's conception of his office was summed up in
two words — Gouverner bien. " Fair son," said he one day to
Prince Louis, his heir, <c I pray thee win the affection of thy
people. Verily, I would rather that a Scotchman came from
Scotland and ruled the kingdom well and loyally than that
thou shouldst govern it ill." Joinville tells with charming

1 She was wont to say to her son — " I would rather see thee die than
commit a mortal sin."

68 PARIS AND ITS STORY

simplicity how the king after hearing mass in the chapel at
Vincennes was wont to walk in the woods for refreshment
and then, sitting at the foot of an old oak tree, would listen
to the plaints of his poorer people without let of usher or
other official and administer justice to them. At other
times, clothed in a tunic of camlet, a surcoat of wool
(tiretaine) without sleeves, a mantle of black taffety, and a
hat with a peacock's plume, he would walk with his
Council in the garden of his palace in the Cite, and on the
people crowding round him, would call for a carpet to be
spread on the ground, on which he would sit, surrounded
with his councillors, and judge the poor diligently.

So rigidly just was the good king that he would
not lie even to the Saracens. On his return from
the crusade, being pressed by his Council to leave a
stranded ship, he called the mariners to him and asked them
if they would abandon the vessel if it were charged with
merchandise. All replied that they would risk their lives
rather than forsake the ship. " Then," said the king,
"why am I asked to abandon it? " "Sire," they answered,
"your royal person and your queen and children cannot
be valued in money nor weighed in the balance against our
lives." "Well," said the king, "I have heard your counsel
and that of my lords : now hear mine. If I leave this ship
there will remain on board five hundred men, each of whom
loves his life as dearly as I do mine, and who, perchance, will
never see their fatherland again. Therefore will I rather
put my person and my wife and children in God's hands
than do hurt to so much people."

In 1238 the king was profoundly shocked by the news
that the crown of thorns was a forfeited pledge at Venice
for an unpaid loan advanced by some Venetian merchants
to the Emperor Baldwin of Constantinople. Louis paid the
debt,1 redeemed the pledge, and secured the relic for Paris.
The king met his envoys at Sens, and barefooted, himself

1 By a subtle irony, part of the money was derived from the tribute of
the Jews of Paris.

SAINT LOUIS 69

carried the sacred treasure enclosed in three caskets, one of
wood, one of silver and one of gold, to Paris. The pro-
cession took eight days to reach the city, and so great were
the multitudes who thronged to see it, that a large platform
was raised in a field outside the walls, from which several
prelates exposed it in turn to the veneration of the
people. Thence it was taken to the cathedral of Notre
Dame, the king dressed in a simple tunic, and barefoot
still carrying the relic. From the cathedral it was trans-
ferred to the royal chapel of St. Nicholas within the precincts
of the palace. A year later the Emperor Baldwin was
constrained to part with other relics, including a piece of
the true cross, the blade of the lance and the sponge of the
Passion. To enshrine them and the crown of thorns the
chapel of St. Nicholas was demolished and the beautiful
Sainte-Chapelle built in its place. The upper chapel was
dedicated to the relics ; the lower to the Blessed Virgin. On
solemn festivals the king would himself expose the relics to
the people. Louis was zealous in his devotion and for a
time attended matins in the new chapel at midnight, until,
suffering much headache in consequence, he was persuaded
to have the office celebrated in the early morning before
prime . His piety, however, was by no means austere : he
had all the French gaiety of heart, dearly loved a good story,
and was excellent company at table, where he loved to sit
conversing with Robert de Sorbon, his chaplain. " It is a
bad thing," he said one day to Joinville, "to take another
man's goods, because rendre (to restore) is so difficult, that
even to pronounce the word makes the tongue sore by
reason of the r's in it."

At another time they were talking of the duties of a
layman towards Jews and Infidels. " Let me tell you a
story," said St. Louis. " The monks of Cluny once
arranged a great conference between some learned clerks
and Jews. When the conference opened, an old knight who
for love of Christ was given bread and shelter at the
monastery, approached the abbot and begged leave to say

PARIS AND ITS STORY

the first word. The abbot, after some protest against the
irregularity, was persuaded to grant permission, and the
knight, leaning on his stick, requested that the greatest

LA SAINTE CHAPELLE.

scholar and rabbi among the Jews might be brought before
him. c Master,' said the knight, * do you believe that the
Blessed Virgin Mary gave birth to Jesus and held Him at her
breast, and that she is the Virgin Mother of God ? ' The
Jew answered that he believed it not at all. 'Then,' sai(

SAINT LOUIS 71

the knight, c fool that thou art to have entered God's
house and His church, and thou shalt pay for it.' There-
upon he lifted his stick, smote the rabbi under the ear and
felled him to the ground. The terrified Jews fled, carrying
their master with them, and so," said St. Louis, "ended the
conference. And I tell you, let none but a great clerk dis-
pute : the business of a layman when he hears the Christian
religion defamed is to defend it with his sharp sword and
thrust his weapon into the miscreant's body as far as it will go."
Louis, however, did not apply the moral in practice.
Although severe in exacting tribute from the Jews, he spent
much money in converting them and held many of their
orphan children at the font. To others he gave pensions,
which became a heavy financial burden to himself and his
successors. He was stern with blasphemers, whose lips he
caused to be branded with a hot iron. "I have heard him
say," writes Joinville, "with his own mouth, that he would he
were marked with a red-hot iron himself if thereby he could
banish all oaths and blasphemy from his kingdom. Full
twenty-two years have I been in his company, and never
have I heard him swear or blaspheme God or His holy
Mother or any Saint, howsoever angry he may have
been : and when he would affirm anything, he would say,
c Verily it is so, or verily it is not so.' Before going to bed
he would call his children around him and recite the fail
deeds and sayings of ancient princes and kings, praying
that they would remember them for good ensample ; for un-
just and wicked princes lost their kingdoms through pride
and avarice and rapine." The good king essayed to deal
with some social evils at court, but in vain : * he could only
give the example of a pure and chaste life. When he was
in the east he heard of a Saracen lord of Egypt who caused

1 In the catalogue of the Acts of Francis I., quoted by Lavisse, is an
order to pay the Dames des Filles de Joie, which follow the court, forty-
five livres tournois for their payments, due for the month of May 1 540,
as it has been the custom to do from most ancient times {de toute
anciennete.)

PARIS AND ITS STORY

all the best books of philosophy to be transcribed for the
use of young men, and he determined to do the like for the
youth of Paris. Scribes were sent to copy the Scriptures
and the writings of the Fathers, preserved in various abbeys
in France. He had a convenient and safe place built at the
treasury of the Sainte-Chapelle, where he housed the books.
Scholars had free access to them, and he himself was wont in
his leisure time to shut himself up there for study, reading
rather the Holy Fathers than the writings of the best
doctors of his own time.

Louis was a steadfast friend to the religious orders. On
his return from the Holy Land he brought with him six
monks from Mount Carmel and established them on the
north bank of the Seine, near the present Quai des Celestins ;
they were subsequently transferred to the University
quarter, on a site now occupied by the Marche aux Carmes.
The prior of the Grande Chartreuse was also prayed to
spare a few brothers to found a house in Paris ; four were
sent, and the king endowed them with his Chateau de
Vauvert, including extensive lands and vineyards. The
chateau was reputed to be haunted by evil spirits, and the
street leading thither as late as the last century was known
as the Rue d'Enfer. Louis began a great church for them,
and the eight cells, each with its three rooms and garden,
were increased to thirty before the end of his reign ; in
later times the order became one of the richest in Paris and
occupied a vast expanse of land to the south of the
Luxembourg. The fine series of paintings illustrating the
life of St. Bruno, by Le Sueur, now in the Louvre,
was executed for the smaller cloister of the monastery.
The Grands Augustins were established on the south bank
of the Seine, near the present Pont Neuf, and the Serfs de la
Vierge, known later as the Blancs Manteaux, from their
white cloaks, in the Marais. They were subsequently
amalgamated with the Guillelmites, or the Hermits of St.
William, and at no. 14 of the street of that name some
remains of their monastery may yet be seen. The church

SAINT LOUIS 73

of the Blancs Manteaux, rebuilt in the seventeenth century,
also exists in the street of that name.

In 1 2 1 7 the first of the Preaching Friars were seen at Paris.
On the 1 2th of September seven friars, among whom were
Laurence the Englishman and a brother of St. Dominic,
established themselves in a house near the parvis of
Notre Dame. In 12 1 8 the University gave them a home
near St. Genevieve, opposite the church of St. Etienne des
Grez (St. Stephen of the Greeks), and in the following year,
when St. Dominic came to Paris, the brothers had increased
to thirty. The saint himself drew up the plans of their
monastery in the Rue St. Jacques, and always cherished a
particular affection for the Paris house. Their church was
opened in 1220, and being dedicated to St. Jacques, the
Dominicans were known as Jacobins all over France. St.
Louis endowed them with a school ; they soon became
one of the most powerful and opulent of the religious orders,
and their church, a burial-place for kings and princes.
The Friars Minor soon followed. St. Francis himself, in his
deep affection for France, had determined to go to Paris and
found a house of his order, but being dissuaded by his
friend, Cardinal Ugolin, sent in 12 16 a few of his disciples.
These early friars, true poverelli di Dio, would accept no
endowment of house or money, and supporting themselves
by their hands, carried their splendid devotion among the
poor, the outcast, and the lepers of Paris. In 1230 the
Cordeliers, as they were called,1 accepted the loan of a
house near the walls in the south-western part of the city. St.
Louis built them a church, and left them at his death part of
his library and a large sum of money.2 They too became
rich and powerful and their church one of the largest and
most magnificent in Paris. St. Bonaventure and Duns Scotus

1 On account of the cord they wore round their habit.

2 St. Louis loved the Franciscans, and in the Fioretti a beautiful story is
told how the king, in the guise of a pilgrim, visiting Brother Giles at Perugia,
knelt with the good friar in the embrace of fervent affection for a great
space of time in silence. They parted without speaking a word.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

taught at their school of theology. Their monastery in the
sixteenth century was the finest and most spacious in Paris,

with cells for a hundred
friars and a vast re-
fectory, which still
exists. The king also
founded the hospital
for 300 blind beggars,
known as the Quinze-
Vingts(i5X2o) now in
the Rue de Charenton,
and left them an annual
rente of thirty livres
parisis, that every in-
mate might have a

*Sa™il ^Sflft m«s. of good pottage

at his meals. Until
Cardinal de Rohan,
of diamond-necklace
fame, effected the sale
of the buildings in
1779 to a syndicate of
speculators, an act of
jobbery which brought
his eminence a hand-
some commission, the
hospital was situated
between the Palais
Royal and the Louvre.
Originally it was a
night shelter, whither
the poor blind might
repair after their long
quest in the streets of
Paris. The king subsequently gave them a dress on which
Philip leBel ordered -xfleur-de-lys to be embroidered, that they
might be known as the "king's poor folk." They were

REFECTORY OF THE CORDELIERS.

SAINT LOUIS 75

privileged to place collecting-boxes and to beg inside the
churches. Since, however, the differences in the relative
opulence of churches was great, the right to beg in
certain of the richer ones was put up to auction every
year, and those who promised to pay the highest pre-
mium to the funds of the hospital were adjudicated
the privilege of begging there. This curious arrange-
ment was in full vigour until the latter half of the
eighteenth century, when the foundation was removed.
Twelve blind brothers and twelve seeing brothers — hus-
bands of blind women who were lodged there on
condition that they served as leaders through the streets
— had a share in the management of the institution.
Luxury seems to have sometimes invaded the hostel,
for in 1579 a royal decree forbade the sale of wine to the
brethren and denounced the blasphemy with which their
conversation was often tainted. In 1631 they were
forbidden to use stuffs other than serge or cloth for their
garments, or to use velvet for ornament.

The establishment of the abbey of St. Antoine, of
the Friars of the Holy Cross and of the Sisters of St. Bega
or Beguines, were also due to the king's piety, and the whole
city was surrounded with religious houses. " Even as a
scribe," says an old writer, " who hath written his book
illuminates it with gold and silver, so did the king illumine
his kingdom with the great quantity of the houses of God
that he built."

Louis was, however, firm in his resistance to ecclesi-
astical arbitrariness. The prelates complained to him
on one occasion that Christianity was going to the
dogs, because no one feared their excommunications,
and prayed that he would order his sergeants to lend
the secular arm to enforce their authority. "Yes,"
answered the king, "if you will give me the particulars
of each case that I may judge if your sentence be just."
They objected that that appertained to the ecclesiastical courts,
but Louis was inflexible, and they remained unsatisfied.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Many were the king's benefactions to the great hos-
pital of Paris, the Hotel Dieu. Rules, dating from 12 17,
for the treatment of the sick poor were elaborated in
his reign with admirable forethought. The sick, after
confession and communion, were to be put to bed and
treated as if they were the masters of the house. They
were to be daily served with food before the nursing
friars and sisters, and all that they desired was to
be freely given if it could be obtained and were not
prejudicial to their recovery. If the sickness were danger-
ous the patient was to be set apart and to be tended with
especial solicitude. The sick were never to be left un-
guarded and even to be kept seven days after they were
healed, lest they should suffer a relapse. The friars and
sisters were to eat twice a day : the sick whenever they
had need. A nurse who struck a patient was excom-
municated. In later times, lax management and the
decline of piety which came with the religious and political
changes of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries made reform
urgent, and in 1505 the Parliament appointed a committee
of eight bourgeois clercs to control the receipts. The build-
ings were much increased in 1636, but were never large
enough, and in 1655 the priory of St. Julien was united to
the hospital. "As many as 6000 patients," says Felibien,
writing in 1725, "have been counted there at one time,
five or six in one bed." No limitations of age or sex or
station or religion or country were set. Everybody was
received, and in Felibien's time the upkeep amounted to
500,000 livres per annum. The old Hotel Dieu was
situated to the south of Notre Dame, and stood there
until rebuilt on its present site in 1878.

The king was ever solicitous for the earthly weal
of his subjects and made an unpopular peace with England
against the advice of his Council. " Sirs," he protested, " the
land I give to the king of England I give without being
held to do so, that I may awaken love between his children
and mine who are cousins germain."

Rue de Venise.

SAINT LOUIS 77

Louis sought diligently over all the land for the grand
sage homme who would prove an honest and fearless
judge, punishing the wicked without regard to rank or
riches ; J and what he exacted of his officers he practised
himself. He punished his own brother, the Count of Artois,
for having forced a sale of land on an unwilling man, and
ordered him to make restitution. He inflicted a tremendous
fine on the Sire de Coucy, one of the most powerful of
his barons, for having hanged three young fellows for
poaching. The whole of the baronage appealed against the
sentence, but the king was inexorable. As Joinville was
on his way to join ship at Marseilles for the crusade in
Palestine, he passed a ruined chateau : — it had been razed
to the ground as a warning to tyrannous seigneurs, who
robbed and spoiled merchants and pilgrims. Louis forbade
the judicial duel in civil cases ; he instituted the Royal
Watch to police the streets of Paris ; he registered and
confirmed the charters of the hundred crafts of Paris and
gave many privileges to the great trade guilds.

In 1720 the king put on a second time the crusader's
badge, "the dear remembrance of his dying Lord," and
met his death in the ill-fated expedition to Tunis. Louis
was so feeble when he left that Joinville carried him from
the Hotel of the Count of Auxerre to the Franciscan
monastery (the Cordeliers), where the old friends and fellow-
warriors in the Holy Land parted for ever. When stricken
with the plague the dying king was laid on a couch strewn
with ashes. He called his son, the Count of Alencon,
to him and gave wise and touching counsel, and, after
holy communion, he recited the seven penitential psalms,
invoked " Monseigneurs St. James and St. Denis and
Madame St. Genevieve," crossed his hands on his heart,
gazed towards heaven and rendered his soul to his Creator.

1 The sale of the provostship of Paris was abolished and a man
of integrity, Etienne Boileau, appointed with adequate emoluments.
So completely was this once venal office rehabilitated, that no seigneur
regarded the post as beneath him.

78 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Piteuse chouse est et digne de pleurer le trepassement de ce saint
prince, says Joinville, to whom the story was told by the
king's son — " A piteous thing it is and worthy of tears the
passing away of this holy prince."

The bones of the dead king, from which the flesh1 had
been removed by boiling, were sent for burial to St. Denis,
which he had chosen for the place of his sepulture. The
Sieur de Joinville,2 his friend and companion, from whose
priceless memoirs we have chiefly drawn, ends his story thus :
— " I make known to all readers of this little book that the
things which I say I have seen and heard of the king are
true and steadfastly shall they believe them. And the other
things of which I testify but by hearsay, take them in a good
sense if it please you, praying God that by the prayers
of Monseigneur St. Louis it may please Him to give us
those things that He knoweth to be necessary as well for
our bodies as for our souls. Amen."

King Louis was tall of stature, with a spare and graceful
figure ; his face was of angelic sweetness, with eyes as of a
dove, and crowned with abundant fair hair. As he grew
older he became somewhat bald and held himself slightly bent.
"Never,'' says Joinville, when describing a charge led by
the king, which turned the tide of battle, " saw I so fair an
armed man. He seemed to sit head and shoulders above
all his knights. His helmet of gold was most fair to see,
and a sword of Allemain was in his hand. Four times I
saw him put his body in danger of death to save hurt to
his people."

1 It was buried in the church of Monreale at Palermo.

2 Joinville was a brave and tender knight ; he tells us that before
starting to join the crusaders at Marseilles he called all his friends and
household before him, and prayed that if he had wronged any one of them
he would declare it and reparation should be made. After a severe
penance he was assoiled, and as he set forth, durst not turn back his eyes
lest his heart should be melted at leaving his fair chateau of Joinville and
his two children whom he loved so dearly.

CHAPTER VI

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS

Two epoch-making developments — the creation of Gothic
architecture and the rise of the university — synchronise with
the period covered by the reigns of Philip Augustus and
St. Louis, and may now fitly be considered.

The memory of the Norman terror had long passed
from men's minds. The Isle de France had been purged of
robber lords, and with peace and security, wealth and
population had increased. The existing churches were
becoming too small for the faithful and new and fairer
temples replaced the old : the massive square towers, the
heavy walls and thick pillars of the Norman builders
blossomed into grace and light and beauty. Already in the
beginning of the twelfth century the church of St. Denis
was in urgent need of extension. On festival days so great
were the crowds pressing to view the relics that many
people had been trodden under foot, and Abbot Suger
determined to build a larger and nobler church. St. Denis
is an edifice of profound interest to the traveller. In the
west facade (1140) we may see the round Norman arch
side by side with the pointed Gothic, and the choir com-
pleted in 1 144 was the earliest example of a Gothic apse.
But Suger's structure was nearly destroyed by fire in 1 2 1 9,
and the upper part of the choir, the nave and transepts, were
rebuilt in 1231 in the pure Gothic of the time. Great was
the enthusiasm of the people as the new temple rose. Noble
and burgess, freeman and serf, harnessed themselves like
beasts of burden to the ropes and drew the stone from the
quarry. All would lend their aid in raising the new house
of God and of His holy martyrs, and the burial-place of their

CATHEDRAL OF ST. DENIS.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 81

kings. In 1 1 6 1 Maurice de Sully, a peasant's son, who had
risen to become bishop of Paris, determined to erect a great
minster in the place of Childebert's basilica, which was no
longer adequate to the demands of the time. The old church
of St. Stephen * and many houses were demolished together
with the cathedral, and a new street, called Notre Dame, was
made. Sully devoted the greater part of his life and private
resources to the work. The king, the pope, seigneurs, guilds
of merchants and private persons, vied with each other in
making gifts. Two years were spent in digging the founda-
tions, and in 1 163 Pope Alexander III. is said to have laid the
first stone. In 1 1 82, the choir being finished, the papal legate
consecrated the high altar. At Sully's death, in 1 1 96, the walls
of the nave were erect and partly roofed. The transepts and
nave were completed in 1235.

In 1 2 1 8 an ingenious and sacrilegious thief, climbing to
the roof to haul up the silver candlesticks from the altar by a
noose in a rope, set fire to the altar cloth, and the choir was
seriously injured. Sully's work had been Romanesque in
style, and choir and apse were now rebuilt in the new style, to
harmonise with the remainder of the church. The builders
have preserved some of the best of the Romanesque twelfth-
century work in the portal of St. Anne's, under the south
tower, and the magnificent iron hinges of old St. Stephen's
were used for its doors. The chapels round the apse and the
twenty-eight figures of the royal benefactors from Childebert
I. to Philip Augustus, on the west front, were not completed
until the end of the thirteenth century. The choir of St.
Germain des Pres and the exquisite little church of St. Julien
le Pauvre were built at the end of the twelfth century, and
the beautiful refectory of St. Martin des Champs was created
about 1220. But the culmination of Gothic art is reached
in the wondrous sanctuary that St. Louis built for the crown
of thorns, " the most precious piece of Gothic," says Ruskin,

xThe relics were transferred to a new church of St. Stephen (St.
Etienne du Mont), built by the abbot of St. Genevieve as a parish church
for his servants and tenants.

NOTRE DAME *. PORTAL OF ST. ANNE.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 83

" in Northern Europe." Michelet saw a whole world of re-
ligion and poetry — tears of piety, mystic ecstasy, the mysteries
of divine love — expressed in the marvellous little church, in
the fragile and precious paintings of its windows.1 The
narrow cell with an aperture looking on the reliquary, which
St. Louis used as an oratory, is still shown. The work was
completed in three years, and has been so admirably restored
by Viollet-le-Duc that the visitor may gaze to-day on this
pure and peerless gem almost as St. Louis left it, for the
gorgeous interior faithfully reproduces the mediaeval colour
and gold. During the Revolution it was used as an granary
and then as a club. It narrowly escaped destruction, and
men now living can remember seeing the old notices on the
porch of the lower chapel — Propriete nationale a vendre. Only
once a year, when the 4C red mass " is said at the opening of the
Law Courts in November, is the church used ; and all that
remains of the relics has long been transferred to the treasury
of Notre Dame. The old Quinze-Vingts, the Chartreux,
the Cordeliers, St. Croix de la Bretonnerie, St. Catherine, the
Blancs Manteaux, the Mathurins and other masterpieces of
the Gothic builders have all disappeared.

Gothic architecture was eminently a product of the Isle
de France. The thirteenth century rivals the finest period
of Greek art for purity, simplicity, nobility and accurate
science of construction. Imagination was chastened by
knowledge, but not systematised into rigid rules. Each
master solved his problem in his own way, and the result
was a charm and a variety, a fertility of invention, never
surpassed in the history of art. Early French sculpture is
a direct descendant of Greek art, which made its way into
France by the Phoenician trade route. French artists
achieved a perfection in the representation of the human
form which anticipated by a generation the work of the
Pisani in Italy, for the statues on the west front of Chartres

1 The early glass-workers were particularly fond of their beautiful red.
*' Wine of the colour of the glass windows of the Sainte-Chapelle," was a
popular locution of the time.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Cathedral (u 50-11 60) are carved with a naturalness and
grace which the Italian masters never surpassed, and the
marvellously mature and beautiful thirteenth-century silver-
gilt figure of a king, in high relief, found in 1 902 immured
in an old house at Bourges and exhibited in 1904 among
the Primitifs Frangais at the Louvre, was wrought more than
a century before the birth of Donatello. Some fragments of
the old sculptures that adorned St. Denis and other twelfth-
and thirteenth-century churches may still be found in the
museums of Paris. The influence of the French architects,
as Emile Bertaux has demonstrated in the first volume
of his Art dans Vltalie Meridionale, extended far be-
yond the limits of France, and is clearly traceable in the
fine hunting-palace, erected for Frederic II. in the thirteenth
century, at Castello del Monte, near Andria, in Apulia. But
the names of those who created these wonderful productions
no man knoweth ; the great masterpieces of the thirteenth
century are anonymous. Jean de Chelles, one of the masons
of Notre Dame, has left his name on the south portal and
the date, Feb. 12, 1257, on which it was begun, "in honour
of the holy Mother of Christ," but nothing is known of him.
The Sainte-Chapelle is commonly attributed to Pierre de
Montereau, but the attribution is a mere guess.

Nor did the love of beauty during this marvellous age
express itself solely in architecture. If we were asked to
specify one trait which more than any other characterises
the " dark ages " and differentiates them from modern times,,
we should be tempted to say, love of brightness and colour.
Within and without, the temples of God were resplendent
with silver and gold, with purple and crimson and blue ; the
saintly figures and solemn legends on their porches, the
capitals, the columns, the groins of the vaultings were lustrous
with colour and gold. Each window was a complex of jewelled
splendour : the pillars and walls were painted or draped with
lovely tapestries and gorgeous banners : the shrines and altars
glittered with precious stones — jasper and sardius and
chalcedony, sapphire and emerald, chrysolite and beryl,.

v*#l

4 yjr

t ll

1 w? i V - ■

1 1

BhHF #lMgF|'

1 i.

[3th Century Sculptures from St. Denis (Restored).

PARIS AND ITS STORY

topaz and amethyst and pearl. The Church illuminated
her sacred books with exquisite painting, bound them with
precious fabrics, and clasped them with silver and gold ;
the robes of her priests and ministrants were rich with
embroideries. So insensible, so atrophied to colour have
the eyes of moderns grown amid their drab surroundings,
that the aspect of a building wherein skilful hands have in
some small degree essayed to realise the splendour of the
past dazes the beholder ; a sense of pain rather than of
delight possesses him and he averts his gaze.

Nor were the churches of those early times anything more
than an exquisite expression of what men were surrounded by
in their daily lives and avocations. The houses r and oratories
of noble and burgess were rich with ivories exquisitely
carved, with sculptures and paintings, tapestry and enamels :
the very utensils of common domestic use were beautiful.
Men did not prate of art : they wrought in love and simplicity.
The very word art, as denoting a product of human activity
different from the ordinary daily tasks of men, was unknown.
If painting was an art, even so was carpentry. A mason was
an artist : so was a shoemaker. Astronomy and grammar
were arts : so was spinning. Apothecaries and lawyers were
artists : so was a tailor. Dante uses the word artista as de-
noting a workman or craftsman, and when he wishes to
emphasise the degeneracy of the citizens of his time as
compared with those of the old Florentine race, he does so
by saying that in those days their blood ran pure even nelF
ultimo artista (in the commonest workman). Let us be
careful how we speak of these ages as " dark" ; at least there
were " retrievements out of the night." Already before the
tenth century the basilica of St. Germain des Pres was
known as St. Germain le dord (the golden), from its glowing

1 Brunetto Latini, in the thirteenth century contrasted the high towers
and grim stone walls of the fortress-palaces of the Italian nobles with the
large, spacious and painted houses of the French, their rooms adorned
pour avoir joieet delit (to have joy and delight) and surrounded with orchards
and gardens.

La Sainte Chapelle.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 87

refulgence, and St. Bernard declaimed against the resplendent
colour and gold in the churches of his time. Never since
the age of Pericles has so great an effusion of beauty de-
scended on the earth as during the wondrous thirteenth
century in the Isle de France and especially in Paris.1

We pass from the enthusiasm of art to that of learning.
From earliest times, schools, free to the poor, had been
attached to every great abbey and cathedral in France.
At the end of the eleventh century four were eminent at
Paris : the schools of St. Denis, where the young princes
and nobles were educated ; of the Parvis Notre Dame, for
the training of young clercs* the famous Scola Parisiaca,
referred to by Abelard ; of St. Genevieve ; and of St.
Victor, founded by William of Champeaux. The fame
of this teacher drew multitudes of young men from the
provinces to Paris, among whom there came, about 1100,
Peter Abelard, scion of a noble family of Nantes. By his
wit, erudition and dialectical sublety he soon eclipsed his
master's fame and was appointed to a chair of philosophy
in the school of Notre Dame. William of Champeaux,
jealous of his young rival, compassed his dismissal, and after
teaching for a while at Melun, Abelard returned to Paris
and opened a school on Mont St. Genevieve, whither
crowds of students followed him. So great was the fame of
this brilliant lecturer and daring thinker that his school was
filled with eager listeners from all countries of Europe,
even from Rome herself.

Abelard was proud and ambitious, and the highest prizes of
an ecclesiastical and scholastic career seemed within his grasp.
But Fulbert, canon of Notre Dame, had a niece, accom-
plished and passing fair, Heloise by name, who was an
enthusiastic admirer of the great teacher. It was proposed

1 Another delusion of moderns is that there was an absence of personal
cleanliness in those ages. In the census of the inhabitants of Paris, who
in 1292 were subject to the Taille, there are inscribed the names of no
less than twenty-six proprietors of public baths : a larger proportion to
population than exists to-day.

2 Hence the name of clerc applied to any student, even if a layman.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

that Abelard should enter the canon's house as her tutor,
and Fulbert's avarice made the proposition an acceptable one.
Abelard, like Arnault Daniel, was a good craftsman in his
mother tongue, a facile master of versi d'amore, which
he would sing with a voice wondrously sweet and supple.
Now Abelard was thirty-eight years of age : Helo'fse
seventeen. Amor al cor gentil ratto s'apprende^ and
Minerva was not the only goddess who presided over their
meetings. For a time Fulbert was blind, but scandal cleared
his eyes and Abelard was expelled from the house. Heloise
followed and took refuge with her lover's sister in Brittany,
where a child, Astrolabe, was born. Peacemakers soon in-
tervened and a secret marriage Was arranged, which took
place early one morning at Paris, Fulbert being present.
But the lovers continued to meet ; scandal was again busy
and Fulbert published the marriage. Heloise, that the
master's advancement in the Church might not be marred,
gave the lie to her uncle and fled to the nuns of Argenteuil.
Fulbert now plotted a dastardly revenge. By his orders
Abelard was surprised in his bed, and the mutilation which,
according to Eusebius, Origen performed on himself, was
violently inflicted on the great teacher. All ecclesiastical
preferment was thus rendered canonically impossible:
Abelard became the talk of Paris, and in bitter humiliation
retired to the abbey of St. Denis. Before he made his vows,
however, he required of Heloise that she should take the
veil. The heart-broken creature reproached him for his
disloyalty, and repeating the lines which Lucan puts into the
mouth of Cornelia weeping for Pompey's death, burst into
tears and consented to take the veil.

A savage punishment was inflicted by the ecclesiastical
courts on Fulbert's ruffians, who were made to suffer the
lex talionis and the loss of their eyes : the canon's property
was confiscated. The great master, although forbidden to
open a school at St. Denis, was importuned by crowds of
young men not to let his talents waste, and soon a country
1 "Love is quickly caught in gentle heart."

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 89

house near by was rilled with so great a company of scholars
that food could not be found for them. But enemies were
vigilant and relentless, and he had shocked the timid by
doubting the truth of the legend that Dionysius the
Areopagite had come to France.

In 1 1 24 certain of Abelard's writings on the Trinity were
condemned, and he took refuge at Nogent-sur-Seine, near
Troyes, under the patronage of the Count of Champagne.
He retired to a hermitage of thatch and reeds, the famous
Paraclete, but even there students flocked to him, and
young nobles were glad to live on coarse bread and lie on
straw, that they might taste of wisdom, the bread of the
angels. Again his enemies set upon him. He surrendered
the Paraclete to Heloise and a small sisterhood, and ac-
cepted the abbotship of St. Gildes in his own Brittany.
A decade passed, and again he was seen in Paris. His
enemies now determined to silence him. St. Bernard, the
dictator of Christendom, denounced his writings. Abelard
appealed for a hearing, and the two champions met in St.
Stephen's church at Sens before the king, the hierarchy
and a brilliant and expectant audience. Abelard, the ever-
victorious knight-errant of disputation, stood forth, eager for
the fray, but St. Bernard simply rose and read out seventeen
propositions from his opponent's works, which he declared
to be heretical. Abelard in disgust left the lists, and was
condemned unheard to perpetual silence. The pope, to
whom he appealed, confirmed the sentence, and the weary
soldier of the mind, old and heart-broken, retired to Cluny.
He gave up the struggle, was reconciled to his opponents,
and died absolved by the pope near Chalons in 1142. His
ashes were sent to Heloise, and twenty years later she was
laid beside him at the Paraclete. A well-known path, worn
by generations of unhappy lovers, leads to a monument in
Pere-la-Chaise Cemetery at Paris which marks the last rest-
ing-place of Abelard and Heloise, whose remains were
transferred there in 1 8 1 7.

It is commonly believed that Abelard's school on Mont

9°

PARIS AND ITS STORY

St. Genevieve was the origin of the Latin Quarter in Paris,
but the migration to the south had probably begun before
Abelard came, and was rather due to the overcrowding of
the episcopal schools. Teachers and scholars began to
swarm to the new quarter over the bridge where quiet,
purer air and better accommodation were found. Ordin-
ances of Bishop Gilbert, 1 1 16, and Stephen, 1 124, transcribed
by Felibien, make this clear. So disturbed were the canons
by the numbers of students in the cloister, that externes
were to be no longer admitted, nor other schools allowed on
the north side where the canons lodged. The growing im-
portance of the new schools, which tended to the advantage
of the abbey of St. Genevieve, soon alarmed the bishops,
and the theologians were ordered to lecture only between
the two bridges (the Petit and Grand Ponts.) But it was
Abelard' s brilliant career that attracted like a lodestar the
youth of Europe to Paris, and made that city the " oven
where the intellectual bread of the world was baked.'*
Providence, it was said, had given Empire to Germany,
Priestcraft to Italy, Learning to France. What a constella-
tion of great names glows in the spiritual firmament of
Paris : William of Champeaux, Peter Lombard, Maurice de
Sully, Pierre de Chartreux, Abelard, Gilbert1 l'Universel,
John of Salisbury, Adrian IV., St. Thomas of Canterbury.
Small wonder that the youth of the twelfth century sought
the springs of learning at Paris !

There was no discipline or college life among the earliest
students. Each master, having obtained his license from the
bishop's chancellor, rented a room at his own cost, and
taught what he knew — even, it was sometimes complained,
what he did not know. We read of one Adam du Petit
Pont, who, in the twelfth century, expounded Aristotle in
the back-room of a house on the bridge amid the cackle of
cocks and hens, whose clientele had many a vituperative
contest with the fish-fags of the neighbourhood. The
students grouped themselves according to nationalities, and
1 Afterwards bishop of London.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS

with their masters held meetings in any available cloister,
refectory, or church. When funds were needed, a general
levy was made ; any balance that remained was spent in a

NOTRE DAME AND PETIT PONT.

festive gathering in the nearest tavern. The aggregation of
thousands of young men, some of whom were cosmopolitan
vagabonds, gave rise to many evils. Complaints are fre-
quent among the citizens of the depredations and im-
moralities of riotous c/ercs, who lived by their wits or by

PARIS AND ITS STORY

their nimble fingers, or by reciting or singing licentious
ballads : the paouvres escol/iers, whose miserable estate,
temptations, debauchery, ignoble pleasures, remorse and
degradation have been so pathetically sung by Francois
Villon, master of arts, poet, bohemian, burglar and homicide.
The richer scholars often indulged in excesses, and of the vast
majority who were poor, some died of hunger. It was the
spectacle of half-starving clercs begging for bread that
evoked the compassion of pious founders of colleges, which
originally were simply hostels for needy scholars. On the
return of Louis VII. from a pilgrimage to Becket's shrine,
his brother Robert founded about 1180 the church of St.
Thomas of Canterbury and a hostel for fifteen students,
who, in 12 1 7, were endowed with a chapel of their own,
dedicated to St. Nicholas, and were then known as the poor
scholars of St. Nicholas.1 In the same year a London
merchant, passing through Paris on his return from a
pilgrimage to the Holy Land, was touched by the sight of
some starving students begging their bread. He founded
a hostel for eighteen poor scholars at the Hotel Dieu, who
in return for lodging and maintenance were to perform the
last Christian rites to the friendless dead. This was the
college of the Dix-huit, afterwards absorbed in the Sorbonne.
In 1200 Etienne Belot and his wife, burgesses of Paris,
founded a hostel for thirteen poor scholars who were
known as the bons enfants. In all, some dozen colleges were
in being when St. Louis came to the throne. In 1253, St.
Louis' almoner, Robert of Cerbon or Sorbon, a poor Picardy
village, founded 2 a modest college of theology, and obtained
from Blanche of Castile a small house above the palace of
the Thermae. Here he was able to maintain a few poor
scholars of theology and to facilitate their studies. Friends

1 The two churches still existed in the eighteenth century and stood on
the site of the southern Cours Visconti and Lefuel of the present Louvre.

2 The actual originator was, however, the queen's physician, Robert
de Douai, who left a sum of money which formed the nucleus of the
foundation.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 93

came to his aid and soon sixteen were accommodated, to whom
others, able to maintain themselves, were added. In 1269 a
papal bull confirmed the establishment of the pauvres
maistres estudiants in the faculty of theology at Paris.
Even when enriched by later founders it was still called la
pauvre Sorbonne. By the renown of their erudition, the
doctors of the Sorbonne were the great court of appeal
in the Middle Ages in matters of theology, and the Sorbonne
became synonymous with the university. Some of the hostels
were on a larger scale. The college of Cardinal Lemoine,
founded in 1302 by the papal legate, housed sixty students
in arts and forty in theology. Most were paying residents,
but a number of bourses (scholarships) were provided for
those whose incomes were below a certain amount. Each
boursier was given daily two loaves of white bread of twelve
ounces, " the common weight in the windows of Paris
bakers."

In 1304, Jeanne of Navarre, wife of Philip the Fair,
founded the college of Navarre for seventy poor scholars,
twenty in grammar, thirty in philosophy, and twenty in
theology. The maintenance fund seems, however, to have
been inadequate or mismanaged, for we soon read of the
scholars of the college walking the streets of Paris every
morning crying — " Bread, bread, good people, for the
poor scholars of Madame of Navarre ! "

Some forty colleges were in existence by the end of the
fourteenth century and had increased to fifty by the end of
the fifteenth ; in the seventeenth, Evelyn gives their number
as sixty-five. In Felibien's time some had disappeared, for
in his map (1725) forty-four colleges only are marked.
Nearly the whole of these colleges clustered around the
slopes of Mont St. Genevieve, which at length became that
Christian Athens that Charlemagne dreamt of. Each
college had its own rules. Generally students were required
to attend matins (in summer at 3 a.m., winter at 4), mass,
vespers and compline. When the curfew of Notre Dame
sounded, they retired to their dormitories. Leave to sleep

PARIS AND ITS STORY

out was granted only in very exceptional cases. Tennis
was allowed, cards and dice were forbidden. The college
of Montaigue, which housed eighty-two poor scholars in
memory of the twelve apostles and seventy disciples,
was reformed in the fifteenth century ; so severe was

the discipline that the
college became the terror
of the youth of Paris,
and fathers were wont to
sober their libertine sons
by threatening to make
capetes x of them. This
was Calvin's college,
where he was known as
the " accusative," from his
austere piety. To obtain
admission to the college
of Cluny (1269) the
scholar must pass an en-
trance examination. He
then spent two years at
logic, three at meta-
physics, two in Biblical
studies ; he held weekly
disputations and preached
every fortnight in French ;
he was interrogated
every evening by the
president on his studies
during the day. If
students evinced no aptitude for learning they were dis-
missed ; if only moderate progress were made, the secular
duties of the college devolved upon them. It was the
foundation of these colleges which organised themselves,

1 The Montaigue scholars were called capetes from their peculiar cape
ferme'e, or cloak, such as Masters of Arts used to wear. The Bibliotheque
St. Genevieve occupies the site of the college.

^*wn^^>Ms&!

TOWER IN RUE NALETTE IN WHICH
CALVIN IS SAID TO HAVE LIVED.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 95

about 1200, into powerful corporations of masters and
scholars (universitates magistrorum et scholiarum) that gave
the university its definite character.

When the term " university " first came into use is
unknown. It is met with in the statutes (12 15) which,
among other matters, define the limits of age for teaching.
A master in the arts must not lecture under twenty-one ;
of theology under thirty-five. Every master must undergo
an examination as to qualification and moral fitness at the
Episcopal Chancellor's court. Early in the twelfth century
the four faculties of Law, Medicine, Arts and Theology
were formed and the national groups reduced to four :
French, Picards, Normans and English.1 Each group
elected its own officers, and in 1245 at latest the Qiuatre
Nations were meeting in the church of St. Julien le Pauvre 2
to choose a common head or rector, who soon superseded
the chancellor as head of the university. The rectors in
process of time exercised almost sovereign authority in the
Latin Quarter. They ruled a population of ten thousand
masters and students, who were exempt from civic jurisdiction.
In 1200 some German students ill-treated an innkeeper who
had insulted their servant. The provost of Paris and some
armed citizens attacked the students' houses and blood was
shed, whereupon the masters of the schools complained to
the king, who was fierce in his anger, and ordered the provost
and his accomplices to be cast into prison, their houses
demolished and vines uprooted. The provost was given
the choice of imprisonment for life or the ordeal by water.
Then followed a series of ordinances which abolished secular
jurisdiction over the students and made them subject to
ecclesiastical courts alone.

In the reign of Philip le Bel a provost of Paris dared to
hang a scholar. The rector immediately closed all classes
until reparation was made, and on the Feast of the Nativity

xThe Rue des Anglais still exists in the Latin Quarter.
2 This interesting twelfth-century building will be found in the Rue
St. Julien le Pauvre, and is now used as a Uniat Greek church.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

of the Virgin the cures of Paris assembled and went in
procession, bearing a cross and holy water to the provost's

HOTEL OF THE PROVOST OF PARIS.

house, against which each cast a stone, crying, in a loud
voice — " Make honourable reparation, thou cursed Satan, to

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 97

thy mother Holy Church, whose privileges thou hast injured,
or suffer the fate of Dathan and Abiram." The king
dismissed his provost, caused ample compensation to be
made, and the schools were reopened.

In 1404 some pages belonging to the royal chamberlain
brutally spurred their horses through a procession of scholars
wending to the church of St. Catherine. They were stoned
by the angry scholars, whereupon they drew sword and
attacked them, pursuing them even into the church. The
rector demanded satisfaction, but the chamberlain, Charles
de Savoisy, was a court functionary, and nothing was done.
The rector then closed all the schools and the king ordered
the Parlement to do instant justice. The sentence was an
exemplary one. The chamberlain's house was to be de-
molished, an annuity of one hundred livres to be paid for
the maintenance of five chaplaincies under the patronage of
the university, a thousand livres compensation to be paid
to the injured scholars and a like sum to the university.
Three of the chamberlain's men were to do penance in their
shirts, torch in hand, before the churches of St. Genevieve,
St. Catherine and St. Severin, to suffer a whipping at the
cross roads, and to be banished for three years. In 1406
permission was given for the house to be rebuilt, but the
university resisted the decree and only gave wav one
hundred and twelve years later, on condition that the terms
of the original condemnation and sentence were inscribed
on the new house.

The famous Pres aux Clercs (Clerks' Meadow) was the
theatre of many a fight with the powerful abbots of St.
Germain des Pres. From earliest times the students had
been wont to take the air in the meadow, which lay between
the monastery and the river, and soon claimed the privilege
as an acquired right. In 1192 the inhabitants of the
monastic suburb resented their insolence, and a free fight
ensued, in which several scholars were wounded and one was
killed. The rector inculpated the abbot, and each appealed
to Rome, with what result is unknown. After nearly a

9 8 PARIS AND ITS STORY

century of strained relations and minor troubles the abbots
in 1278 had walls and other buildings erected on the way
to the meadow. The scholars met in force and demolished
them . The abbot, who was equal to the occasion, rang his
bells, called his vassals to arms and sent a force to seize the
gates of the city that gave on the suburb, to prevent
reinforcements reaching the scholars. His retainers then
attacked the rioters, killed several and wounded many.
The rector complained to the papal legate and threatened
to close the schools if reparation were not made and justice
done within fifteen days, whereupon the legate ordered the
provost of the monastery to be expelled for five years.
The royal council forced the abbot to exile ten of his vassals,
to endow two chantries for the repose of the souls of slain
clercs and compensate their fathers by fines of two hundred
and four hundred livres respectively, and to pay the rector
two hundred livres to be distributed among poor scholars.

The rector claimed right of jurisdiction over the parch-
ments exposed for sale in Paris and its neighbourhood, and
attended with his sworn experts the great Fair of Landry
at St. Denis, instituted in 877. The students accompanied
him with much uproar. At this season the Landry gifts
were made by the students to the masters, consisting of a
lemon larded with pieces of gold or silver in a crystal glass.
The ceremony was accompanied by the sound of drums
and musical instruments and was followed by a holiday.
Innumerable were the complaints on this and other occasions
of the rowdyism of the scholars, their practical jokes and
dissolute habits.

Many circumstances contributed to make Paris the
capital of the intellectual world in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries. France has ever been the home of
great enthusiasms and has not feared " to follow where airy
voices lead." The conception and enforcement of a Truce
of God (Treve de Dieu) whereby all acts of hostility in
private or public wars ceased during certain days of the
week or on church festivals ; the noble ideal of Christian

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 99

chivalry ; the first crusade — all had their origin in France.
The crusaders carried the prestige of the French name and
diffused the French idiom over Europe. It was a French
monk preaching in France who gave voice to the general
enthusiasm ; a French pope approved his impassioned
oration; a French shout " Dieu le veut" became the
crusader's war-cry. The conquest of the Holy Land was
organised by the French, its first Christian king was a
French knight, its laws were indited in French, and to this
day every Christian in the East is a Frank whatever tongue
he may speak. In the thirteenth century Brunetto Latini
wrote his most famous work, the Livres dou Tresor, in French,
because it was la parleure plus delitable, il plus commune a
toutes gens (" the most delightful of languages and the most
common to all peoples.,,) Martin da Canale composed his
story of Venice in French for the same reason, and Marco
Polo dictated his travels in French in a Genoese prison.
When St. Francis was sending the brothers to establish
the order in distant lands, he himself chose France, but was
dissuaded by his friend, Cardinal Ugolin. "When
inebriated with love and compassion for Christ," says the
writer of the Speculum, "and overflowing with sweetest
melody of the Spirit, ofttimes would he find utterance in
the French tongue ; the strains of the divine whisperings
which his ear had caught he would express in a French
song of joyous exultation, and making the gestures of one
playing a viol, he would sing in French of our Lord Jesus
Christ."

Never in the history of civilisation were men possessed
with such passion for the spiritual life or such faith in
the reasoning faculty as in the thirteenth century in Paris.
The holiest mysteries were analysed and defined ; every-
where was a search for new things. Conservative Church-
men became alarmed and complained of disputants and
blasphemers exercising their wits at every street corner.
The four camel-loads of manuscripts, the works and
commentaries of Aristotle, brought by the Jews from

IOO

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Spain — a monstrous and mutilated version translated from
Greek into Arabic and from Arabic into Latin — became the
battle-ground of the schools. The Church at first forbade
the study of Aristotle, then by the genius of Aquinas,
Christianised and absorbed him. His works became a kind
of intellectual tennis-ball bandied between the Averroists,
who carried their teachings to a logical consequence, and
the more orthodox followers of Aquinas. For three years
the faculty was torn asunder by the rival factions. Siger of
Brabant, whose eternal light Dante saw refulgent amid other
doctors of the Church in the heaven of the Sun, was an
Averroist ; Siger —

"Che leggendo nel vico degli strami
Sillogizzo invidiosi veri." I

The Rue du Fouarre (Straw), where Siger taught and
perhaps Dante studied, was the street of the Masters
of the Arts. Every house in it was a school. It still
exists, though wholly modernised, opposite the foot oi
the Petit Pont. Its name has been derived from the straw
spread on the floor of the schools or on which the student!
sat, but there is little doubt that Benvenuto da Imola's*
explanation, that it was so named from a hay and straw
market held there, is the correct one.

The wonderful thirteenth century saw the meridiai
glory of the university. It was the age of the greal
Aristotelian schoolmen who all taught at Paris — Albertuj
Magnus, St Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus and Rogei
Bacon, their candid critic, who carried the intellects
curiosity of the age beyond the tolerance of his Franciscai
superiors and twice suffered disciplinary measures at Paris.

1 Par. X. 136. "Who lecturing in Straw St. deduced truths thai
brought him hatred."

2 Benvenuto was certainly in France and possibly in Paris during th<
fourteenth century. At any rate he would be familiar with Parisian
students, many of whom were Italians.

Le Petit Pont.

ART AND LEARNING AT PARIS 101

In the fourteenth century the university was as
renowned as ever. Among many tributes from great
scholars we choose that of Richard de Bury, bishop of
Durham, who in his Philobiblon writes : " O Holy God
of gods in Zion, what a mighty stream of pleasure made
glad our hearts whenever we had leisure to visit Paris, the
Paradise of the world, and to linger there ; where the days
seemed ever few for the greatness of our love ! There are
delightful libraries more aromatic than stores of spicery ;
there are luxuriant parks of all manners of volumes ; there
are Academic meads shaken by the tramp of scholars ; there
are lounges of Athens ; walks of the Peripatetics ; peaks of
Parnassus ; and porches of the Stoics. There is seen the
surveyor of all arts and sciences Aristotle, to whom belongs
all that is most excellent in doctrine, so far as relates to this
passing sublunary world ; there Ptolemy measures epicycles
and eccentric apogees and the nodes of the planets by
figures and numbers ; there Paul reveals the mysteries ;
there his neighbour Dionysius arranges and distinguishes
the hierarchies ; there the virgin Carmentis reproduces in
Latin characters all that Cadmus collected in Phoenician
letters ; there indeed opening our treasures and unfasten-
ing our purse-strings we scattered money with joyous
heart and purchased inestimable books with mud and
sand."

In 1349 the number of professors (maistres-regents) on
the rolls was 502 : in 1403 they had increased to 709, to
which must be added more than 200 masters of theology
and canon law. "The University," wrote Pope Alexander
IV. in a papal bull, "is to the Church what the tree of
life was to the earthly Paradise, a fruitful source of all
learning, diffusing its wisdom over the whole universe ;
there the mind is enlightened and ignorance banished and
Jesus Christ gives to His spouse an eloquence which con-
founds all her enemies/'

But already decadence had set in. The multiplication
and enrichment of colleges proved fatal to the old de-

102

PARIS AND ITS STORY

mocratic vigour and equality. Some colleges pretended t<
superiority and the movement lost its unity. Scholasticism
had done its work and no new movement took its place.
Teachers lost all originality and did but ruminate and com-
ment on the works of their great predecessors. Schools
declined in numbers and scholars in attendance. Ordinances
were needed to correct the abuses covered by the title of
scholar. The Jacobin and Cordelier teachers, moreover,
had exhausted much life from the university ; but its fame
continued, and Luther in his early conflicts with the papacy
appealed against the pope to the university. But it made
the fatal blunder of opposing the Reform and the Renaissance,
instead of absorbing them, and the interest of those great
movements centres around the college of France.

CHAPTER VII

THE PARLEMENT THE STATES-GENERAL CONFLICT WITH

BONIFACE VIII. THE DESTRUCTION OF THE KNIGHTS-
TEMPLARS

The court of Philip III., pitiful scion of a noble king, is
associated with a dramatic judicial murder at Paris. Among
the late-repentant souls temporarily exiled from purification
who crowd around Dante at the foot of the Mont of Purga-
tory is that of Pierre de la Brosse, " severed from its body
through hatred and envy and not for any sin committed."
Unhappy Pierre was St. Louis' chamberlain and had been
present at his death. He filled the same high office under his
son, became his favourite minister and all-powerful at court.
In 1276 the king's eldest son by his first queen died under
suspicion of poison. The second queen, sister of the Duke
of Brabant, being envious of Pierre's ascendency, began
insidiously to abuse the king's ear. Pierre met the
queen's move by clandestinely spreading a report that the
prince was sacrificed to secure the succession to her own
offspring. The king was then persuaded by the queen's friends
to consult a famous prophetess, who declared her innocent,
and Pierre's death was plotted by the queen, her brother
of Brabant, and some discontented and jealous nobles.
One morning Paris was startled by the arrest of the
omnipotent minister, who was tried before a commission
packed by his enemies, and hanged on 30th June 1278,
by the common hangman, at the gibbet on Montfaucon,
in the presence of the Duke of Brabant and others of his
enemies. The popular belief was that he had been accused
of an attempt on the queen's chastity : actually his destruc-
tion had been compassed by a charge of treason, based on

103

104

PARIS AND ITS STORY

some forged letters. The tragic end of Pierre de la Brosse
excited universal interest and discussion. Benvenuto da
Imola says that Dante, when in Paris, diligently sought out
the truth and convinced himself of the great minister's
innocence.

A prince of far different calibre was the Fourth Philip,
surnamed the Fair, who grappled with and humiliated the
great pontiff, Boniface VIII. — the most resolute upholder of
the papacy in her claim to universal secular supremacy — and
thus achieved a task which had baffled the mighty emperors
themselves ; a prince who, in Dante's grim metaphor, scourged
the shameless harlot of Rome from head to foot, and
dragged her to do his will in France.

Philip's reign is remarkable for the establishment of the
Parlement and the first convocation of the States- General
in Paris. From earliest times of the Monarchy, the kings
had dispensed justice, surrounded by the chief Churchmen
and nobles of the land, thus constituting an ambulatory
tribunal, which was held wherever the sovereign might happen
to be. In 1302 Philip fixed the tribunal at Paris, restricted it
to judicial functions, and housed it in his palace of the Cite,
which, in 143 1, when the kings ceased to dwell there, became
the Palais de Justice. The palace was rebuilt by Philip. A
vast hall, divided by a row of columns adorned with statues
of the kings of France, and said to have been the most spacious
and most beautiful Gothic chamber in France, with other
courts and offices, accommodated the Parlement. The tri-
bunal was at first composed of twenty-six councillors or judges,
of whom thirteen were lawyers, presided over by the royal
chancellor. It sat twice yearly for periods of two months,
and consisted of three chambers or courts.1 The nobles who
at first sat among the lay members gradually ceased to attend
owing to a sense of their legal inefficiency, and the Parlement
became at length a purely legal body. During the imprison-
ment of the French king, John the Good, in England, the

1 In the seventeenth century the councillors had increased to one
hundred and twenty and the courts to seven.

PALAIS DE JUSTICE, CLOCK TOWER AND CONCIERGERIE.

io6

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Parlement1 sat en permanence, and henceforth became the cour
souveraine et capitale of the kingdom. The purity of its
members was maintained by severest penalties. In 1336
one of the presidents was convicted of receiving bribes and
hanged. Twelve years later the falsification of some de-
positions was punished with the same severity, and in 1545
a corrupt chancellor was fined 100,000 livres, degraded, and
imprisoned for five years. The chief executive officer of
the Parlement, known as the Concierge, appointed the
bailiffs of the court and had extensive local jurisdiction
'over dishonest merchants and craftsmen, whose goods he
could burn. His official residence, known as the Conciergerie,
subsequently became a prison, and so remains to this day.
The entrance flanked by the two ancient tours de Cesar et
dy Argent, is one of the most familiar objects in Paris. There
the Count of Armagnac was assassinated and the cells
are still shown where Marie Antoinette, Madame Roland,
Danton, Robespierre, and many of the chief victims of the
Terror were lodged before their execution.

The same year (1302) saw the ripening of Philip's long
quarrel with Pope Boniface VIII. and the first meeting of
the States-General. The king knew he had embarked on a
struggle in which the mightiest potentates had been worsted :
he determined to appeal to the patriotism of all classes of his
subjects and fortify himself on the broad basis of such popular
opinion as then existed. The meeting of the States-General
after the burning of the papal bull in Paris on the memorable
Sunday of nth February 1302, made an epoch in French
history. For the first time members of the Tiers Etat (the
Third Estate, or Commons), sat beside the two privileged
orders of clergy and nobles, and were recognised as one of
the legitimate orders of the realm. The assembly was con-
voked to meet in Notre Dame on the 10th of April. The
question was the old one which had rent Christendom

1 The term " Parlement " was originally applied to the transaction of
the common business of a monastic establishment after the conclusion of
the daily chapter.

CONFLICT WITH BONIFACE VIII. 107

asunder for centuries : Was the pope to be supreme over
the princes and peoples of the earth in secular as well as in
spiritual matters? The utmost enthusiasm prevailed, and
though the prelates spoke with a somewhat timid voice the
assembled members swore to risk their lives and property
rather than sacrifice the honour of the crown and their
own liberties to the insolent usurpation of the pope.
Excommunication followed, but the king had ordered all
the passes from Italy to be guarded, so that no papal letter or
messenger should enter France. <c Boniface, who," says
Villani, the Florentine chronicler, "was proud and scornful,
and bold to attempt every great deed, magnanimous and
puissant, replied by announcing the publication of a bull
deposing the king from his throne and releasing his
subjects from their allegiance.', Philip, at an assembly
in the garden of the palace in the Cite, and in presence
of the chief ecclesiastical, religious and lay authorities,
again laid his case before the people and read an appeal
against the pope to a future Council of the Church.

The bull of deposition was to be promulgated on
8th September. On 7th September, while the aged pope
was peacefully resting at his native city of Anagni,
Guillaume de Nogaret, bearing the royal banner of France,
Sciarra Colonna and other disaffected Italian nobles, with
three hundred horsemen, flung themselves into Anagni,
crying — " Death to Pope Boniface." The papal palace was
unguarded ; at the first alarm the cardinals fled and hid
themselves, and all but a few faithful servants forsook their
master. The defenceless pope believed that his hour was
come, but, writes Villani, " Great-souled and valiant as
he was, he said, * Since like Jesus Christ I must be
taken by treachery and suffer death, at least I will die
like a pope.' He commanded his servants to robe him in
the mantle of Peter, to place the crown of Constantine on
his head and the keys and crozier in his hands." He
ascended the papal throne and calmly waited. Guillaume,
Sciarra and the other leaders burst into the apartment, sword

io8

PARIS AND ITS STORY

in hand, uttering the foulest of insults ; but awed and
cowed by the indomitable old pontiff, who stood erect in
appalling majesty, their weapons dropped and none durst lay
a hand upon him. They set a guard outside the room and
proceeded to loot the palace. For three days the grand old
pontiff — he was eighty-six years of age — remained a
prisoner, until the people of Anagni rallied and rescued
him, and he returned to Rome. In a month the humiliated
Boniface died of a broken heart, and before two years were
passed his successor in Peter's chair, Pope Clement V.,
revoked all his bulls and censures, expunged them from
the papal register, solemnly condemned his memory and
restored the Colonna family to all their honours. Dante, who
hated Boniface as cordially as Philip did, and cast him into
hell, was yet revolted at the cruelty of the " new Pilate, who
had carried the fleur-de-lys into Anagni, who made Christ
captive, mocked Him a second time, renewed the gall and
vinegar, and slew Him between two living thieves." But the
" new Pilate was not yet sated." The business at Anagni had
only been effected spendendo molta moneta ; the disastrous
battle of Courtrai and the inglorious Flemish wars had
exhausted the royal treasury ; the debasement of the
coinage had availed nought, and Philip turned his lustful eyes
on a once powerful lay order, whose wealth and pride were
the talk of Christendom.

After the capture of Jerusalem and the establishment there
of a Christian kingdom, pilgrims flocked to the holy places.
Soon, however, piteous stories reached Jerusalem of the
cruel spoliation and murder of unarmed pilgrims on their
journey from the coast by hordes of roving lightly-armed
Bedouins, against whom the heavily-armed Franks were
powerless. The evil was growing well-nigh intolerable when,
in 1 1 1 8, two young French nobles, Hugh of Payens and
Godfrey of St. Omer, with other seven youths of highest
birth, bound themselves into a lay community, with the
object of protecting the pilgrims' way. They took the usual
vow of poverty, charity and obedience ; St. Bernard drew

Ile de la Cite.

DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPLARS 109

up their Rule — and we may be sure it was austere enough
— pope and patriarch confirmed it. Their garb was a mantle
of purest white linen with a red cross embroidered on the
shoulder. The order was housed in a wing of the king's
palace, which was built on the site of Solomon's Temple,
hard by the Holy Sepulchre, and its members called
themselves the Poor Soldiers of Christ and of Solomon's
Temple. Their banner, half of black, half of white, was
inscribed with the device " non nobis Domine" Their
battle-cry " Beauceant," and their seal, two figures on horse-
back, have not been satisfactorily interpreted — the latter
probably portrays a knight riding away with a rescued
pilgrim. Soon the little band of nine was joined by
hundreds of devoted youths from rich and noble families ;
endowments to provide them with arms and horses and
servants flowed in, and thus was formed the most famous,
the purest and the most heroic body of warriors the world
has ever seen. Hugh de Payens had gathered three hundred
Knights-Templars around him at Jerusalem : in five years
nearly every one had been slain in battle. But enthusiasm
filled the ranks faster than they were mowed down : none
ever surrendered and the order paid no money for ransom.
When hemmed in by overwhelming numbers, they fought
till the last man fell, or died, a wounded captive, in
the hands of the Saracens. Of the twenty-two Grand
Masters seven were killed in battle, five died of wounds,
and one of voluntary starvation in the hands of the infidel.

When Acre was lost, and the last hold of the Christians
in the Holy Land was wrested from them, only ten Knights-
Templars of the five hundred who fought there escaped to
Cyprus. They chose Jacques de Molay for Grand Master,
replenished their treasury and renewed their members ; but
their mission was gone for ever. The order was exempt
from episcopal jurisdiction and subject to the pope alone :
its wealth, courage and devotion were rusting for lack of
employment. Boniface VIII., with that grandeur and daring
which make of him despite his faults, so magnificent a

PARIS AND ITS STORY

figure in history, conceived the idea of uniting them with
the other military orders — the Hospitallers and the Teutonic
Knights — and making of the united orders an invincible army
to enforce on Europe the decrees of a benevolent and
theocratic despotism. They soon became suspected and
hated by bishops and kings alike, and at length were
betrayed by the papacy itself to their enemies.

. In 1304, a pair of renegade Templars,1 who for their
crimes were under sentence of imprisonment for life in the
prison at Toulouse, sought an introduction to the king, and
promised in return for their liberty to give information of cer-
tain monstrous crimes and sacrileges of common and notorious
occurrence in the order. Depositions were taken and sent to
the king's creature, Pope Clement V. Some communication
passed between them, but no action was taken and the matter
seemed to have lapsed. About a year after these events the
pope wrote an affectionate letter to Jacques de Molay, inviting
him to bring the treasure of the order and his chief officers
to France, to confer with himself and the king respecting a
new crusade. Jacques and his companions, suspecting
nothing, came and were received by pope and king with
great friendliness : the treasure, twelve mules' load of gold
and silver, was stored in the vaults of the great fortress of
the Templars at Paris. Some rumours reached de Molay of
the delation made by the Toulousian prisoners, but the pope
reassured him in an interview, April 1307, and lulled him
into security. On 14th September of the same year all the
royal officers of the realm were ordered to hold themselves
armed for secret service on 12th October, and sealed letters
were handed to them to be opened on that night. At dawn
on the 13 th, all the Templars in France were arrested in their
beds and flung into the episcopal gaols, and the bishops then
proceeded to u examine " the prisoners. One hundred and
forty were dealt with in Paris, the centre of the order.

1 The contemporary chronicler, Villani, says of one of these scoundrels
that he "was named Nosso Dei, one of our Florentines, a man filled with
every vice."

DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPLARS in

The charges and a confession of their truth by the Grand
Master were read to them : denial, they were told, was
useless ; liberty would be the reward of confession, im-
prisonment the penalty of denial.

A few confessed and were set free. The remainder
were " examined." Starvation and torture of the most
incredible ferocity did their work. Thirty-six died under
torture in Paris, and many others in other places : most
of the remainder confessed to anything the inquisitors
required. The pope, warned by the growing feeling in
Europe, now became alarmed, and the next act in the
drama opens at Paris, where a papal commission sat at the
Abbey of St. Genevieve, to hear what the Templars had to
say in their defence. All were invited to give evidence and
promised immunity in the name of the pope. Hundreds
came to Paris to defend their order,1 but having been made
to understand by the bishops that they would be burned
as heretics if they retracted their confessions, they held back
for a time until solemnly assured by the papal commissioners
that they had nothing to fear, and might freely speak.
Ponzardus de Gysiaco, preceptor of Payens, then came
forward and disclosed the atrocious means used to extort
confessions, and said if he were so tortured again he would
confess anything that were demanded of him. He would
face death, however horrible, even by boiling and fire, in
defence of his order, but long-protracted and agonising
torture was beyond human endurance. He was sent back
to confinement and the warders were bidden to see that he
suffered naught for what he had said. The rugged old
master, Jacques de Molay, scarred by honourable wounds, the
marks of many a battle with the infidel, was brought before
the court and his alleged confession was read to him. He
was stupefied, and swore that if his enemies were not
priests he would know how to deal with them. A second

1 The indictment covers seven quarto pages. The charges may be
briefly classified as blasphemy, heresy, spitting and trampling on the crucifix,
obscene and secret rites, and unnatural crimes.

ii2 PARIS AND ITS STORY

time he was examined and preposterous charges of unnatural
crimes were preferred against the order by the king's chancel-
lor, Guillaume de Nogaret. They were drawn from a chronicle
at St. Denis, and based on certain statements alleged to have
been made by Saladin, Sultan of Babylon (Egypt). Again
he was stupefied, and declared he had never heard of
such things. And now the Templars' courage rose. Two
hundred and thirty-one came forward, emaciated, racked
and torn ; among them one poor wretch was carried in,
whose feet had been burnt ofF by slow fires. Nearly all
protested that the confessions had been wrung from them by
torture, that their accusers were perjurers, and that they would
maintain the purity of their order usque ad mortem (" even
unto death"). Many complained that they were poor, illiterate
soldiers, neither able to pay for legal defence nor to compre-
hend the charges indicted in Latin against them. When the
commissioners went to interrogate twenty Templars de-
tained in the abbey of St. Genevieve, a written petition was
handed to them by the prisoners, with a prayer to the papal
notaries to correct the bad Latin. It was Philip's turn now
to be alarmed, but the prelates were equal to the crisis.
The archbishop of Sens, metropolitan of Paris and brother
of the king's chief adviser, convoked a provincial court at
his palace in Paris, and condemned to the stake fifty-four
of the Knights who had retracted their confessions. On
the ioth of May the papal commissioners were appealed
to : they expressed their sorrow that the episcopal court
was beyond their jurisdiction, but would consider what
might be done. Short time was allowed them. The
stout-hearted archbishop was not a man to show weakness ;
he went steadily on with his work, and in spite of appeals
from the papal judges for delay, the fifty- four were led
forth on the afternoon of the 12th1 to the open country

1 There is a significant entry on page 273 of the published trial : in
ista pagina nihil est scriptum. The empty page tells of the moment when
the papal commissioners, having heard that the fifty-four had been burned,
suspended the sitting.

PALACE OF THE ARCHBISHOP OF SENS.

ii4

PARIS AND ITS STORY

outside the Porte St. Antoine, near the convent of St.
Antoine des Champs, and slowly roasted to death. They
bore their fate with the constancy of martyrs, each pro-
testing his innocence with his last breath, and declaring
that the charges alleged against the order were false. Two
days later, six more were sent to the stake at the Place
de Greve. In spite of threats, the prelates went on with
their grim work of terror. Many of the bravest Templars
still gave the lie to their traducers, but the majority were
cowed : further confessions were obtained, and the pope
was satisfied. The proudest, bravest and richest order
in Christendom was crushed or scattered to the four corners
of the world. Their vast estates were nominally con-
fiscated to the Knights Hospitallers ; but our " most dear
brother in Christ, Philip the king, although he was not
moved by avarice nor intended the appropriation of the
Templars' goods " * had to be compensated for the expense
of the prosecution. The treasure of the order failed
to satisfy the exorbitant claims of the crown, and the
Hospitallers were said to have been impoverished rather
than enriched by the transfer.

The last act was yet to come. On nth March 13 14,
a great stage was erected in the parvis of Notre Dame, and
there, in chairs of state, sat the pope's envoy, a cardinal, the
archbishop of Sens, and other officers of Christ's Church on
earth. The Grand Master, Jacques de Molay, and three
preceptors were exposed to the people, their alleged con-
fession and the papal bull suppressing the order, and con-
demning them to imprisonment for life, were read by the
cardinal. But, to the amazement of his Eminence, when
the clauses specifying the enormities to which the accused
had confessed were being recited, the veteran Master and
the preceptor of Normandy rose, and in loud voices, heard
of all the people, repudiated the confession, and declared
that they were wholly guiltless, and ready to suffer death.
They had not long to wait. Hurried counsel was held with

1 Nihil sibi appropriare intendebat.

DESTRUCTION OF THE TEMPLARS 115

the king, and that same night Jacques de Molay and the
preceptor of Normandy were brought to a little island on
the Seine, known as the Isle of the Trellises,1 and burnt to
death, protesting their innocence to the last.

" God pays debts, but not in money." An Italian
chronicler relates that the Master, while expiring in the
flames, solemnly cited pope and king to meet him before the
judgment-seat of God. In less than forty days Clement V.
lay dead : in eight months Philip IV. was thrown by his
horse and went to his account. Seven centuries later the
grisly fortress of the Templars opened its portals, and the
last of the unbroken line of the kings of France, Louis
XVI., was led forth to a bloody death.

Those who would read the details of the dramatic ex-
amination at Paris before the papal commissioners, may do
so in the minutes published by Michelet.2 The great
historian declares that a study of the evidence shook his
belief in the Templars' innocence, and that if he were
writing his history again, he must needs alter his attitude
towards them. Such is not the impression left on the mind
of the present writer. Moreover it has been pointed out
that there is a suspicious identity in the various groups of
testimonies, corresponding to the episcopal courts whence
such testimonies came. The royal officers, after the severest
search, could find not a single compromising document in
the Templars' houses : nothing but a few account books,
works of devotion and copies of St. Bernard's Rule. There
were undoubtedly unworthy and vicious knights among the
fifteen thousand Templars belonging to the order, but the
charges brought against them are too monstrous for belief.

1 Or the isle of the Jews, which, with its sister islet of Bussy, were
subsequently joined to the island of the Cite, and now form the Place
Dauphine and the land that divides the Pont Neuf. Philip watched the
fires from his palace garden.

2 It is to be hoped that some English scholar will do for these most
important records, the earliest report of any great criminal trial which we
possess, what Mr T. Douglas Murray has done for the Trial and Reha-
bilitation of Joan of Arc.

PARIS AND ITS STORY

The call which they had responded to so nobly, however,
had long ceased. They were wealthy, proud and self-
absorbed. Sooner or later they must infallibly have gone
the way of all organisations which have outlived their use
and purpose. It is the infamy of their violent destruction
for which pope and king must answer at the bar of history.

CHAPTER VIII

ETIENNE MARCEL THE ENGLISH INVASIONS THE MAIL-

LOTINS MURDER OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS AR-

MAGNACS AND BURGUNDIANS

With the three sons of Philip who successively became
kings of France, the direct line of the Capetian dynasty
ends : with the accession of Philip VI. in 1328, the house of
Valois opens the sad century of the English wars — a
period of humiliation and defeat, of rebellious and treacher-
ous princes, civil strife, famine and plague, illumined only
by the heroism of a peasant-girl, who, when king and nobles
were sunk in shameless apathy or sullen despair, saved
France from utter extinction. Pope after pope sought to
make peace, but in vain : Hut sont en paix, demain en
guerre ("to-day peace, to-morrow war ") was the normal and
inevitable situation until the English had wholly subjected
France or the French driven the English to their natural
boundary of the Channel.

Never since the days of Charlemagne had the French
Monarchy been so powerful as when the Valois came to
the throne : in less than a generation Crecy and Poitiers
had made the English name a terror in France, and a
French king, John the Good, was led captive to England.
Once again, as in the dark Norman times, Paris rose
and determined to save herself. Etienne Marcel, provost
of the merchants, whose statue now stands near the site of
the Maison aux Piliers, the old Hostel de Ville which he
bought for the citizens of Paris, became the leader of the
movement. The Dauphin,1 who had assumed the title of
Lieutenant-General, convoked the States-General at Paris,

1 During John the Good's reign, the province of Dauphiny had been
added to the French crown, and the king's eldest son took the title of
Dauphin.

1T7

n8 PARIS AND ITS STORY

but he was forced by Marcel and his party to grant some
urgent reforms, and a Committee of National Defence was
organised by the provost, who became virtually dictator of
Paris. The Dauphin fled to Ccmpiegne to rally the nobles.
During the ensuing anarchy the poor, dumb, starving serfs
of France, in their hopeless misery and despair, rose in in-
surrection and swept like a flame over the land. Froissart,
who writes from the distorted stories told him by the
seigneurs, has woefully exaggerated the atrocities of the
Jacquerie,1 There was much arson and pillage, but barely
thirty of the nobles are known to have perished. Of the
merciless vengeance taken by the seigneurs there is ample
confirmation. The wretched peasants were easily out-
manoeuvred and killed like rats by the mail-clad nobles and
their men-at-arms ; so many were butchered in the market-
place of Meaux that weariness stayed the arms of the
slaughterers, and fire completed their work. Twenty
thousand are estimated to have perished between the Seine
and the Marne. Meanwhile the Dauphin was marching on
Paris : Marcel had seized the Louvre, repaired and ex-
tended the wall of Paris, and raised an army. The provost
turned for support to the Jacques, and on their suppression
essayed to win over King Charles of Navarre, whose aid
would decide the issue. Plot and counterplot followed.
On 31st July 1358, Marcel was inspecting the gates of
Paris, and at the Bastille 2 St. Denis ordered the keys to be
given up to the treasurer of the king of Navarre, who was
with him. The guards refused, and Jean Maillart, Marcel's
sheriff and bosom friend, leapt on his horse, rode to the
Halles, and crying — " Au rot, au roi, mont-joie St. Denis,"
called the king's friends to arms, and hastened to intercept
the provost at the Bastille St. Antoine. Marcel was holding
the keys in his hand when they arrived. " Stephen,

1 So called from the familiar appellation "Jacques Bonhomme," applied
half in contempt, half in jest, by the seigneurs to the peasants who served
them in the wars.

2 The bastilles were fortified castles before the chief gates of Paris.

ETIENNE MARCEL 119

Stephen ! " cried Maillart, " what dost thou here at this
hour?" "I am here," answered the provost, "to guard
the city whose governor I am." "Par Dieu," retorted
Maillart, " thou art here for no good," and turning to his
followers, said, " Behold the keys which he holds to the
destruction of the city." Each gave the other the lie.
Cl Good people," protested Marcel, " why would you do me
ill ? All I wrought was for your good as well as mine."
Maillart for answer smote at him, crying, " Traitor, a morty a
mort ! " There was a stubborn fight, and Maillart felled the
provost by a blow with his axe ; six of the provost's com-
panions were slain, and the remainder haled to prison. Next
day the Dauphin entered Paris in triumph, and the popular
leaders were executed on the Place de Greve. The pro-
vost's body was dragged to the court of the church of St.
Catherine du Val des Ecoliers, where it lay naked that it
might be seen of all : after a long exposure it was cast into
the Seine. All the reforms were revoked by the king, but
the remembrance of the time when the merchants and
people of Paris had dared to speak to their royal lord face
to face of justice and good government, was never obliterated.

Meanwhile the land was a prey to anarchy. Law there
was none. Bands of rou tiers, or organised brigands, English
and French, ravaged and pillaged without let or hindrance.
Eustache d'Aubrecicourt, with 10,000 men-at-arms, raided
Champagne at his will and held a dozen fortresses. The
peasants posted sentinels in the church towers while they
worked in the fields, and took refuge by night in boats
moored in the rivers.

The English invasion of 1359 resembled a huge picnic
or hunting expedition. The king of England and his
barons brought their hunters, falcons, dogs and fishing
tackle. They marched leisurely to Bourg-la-Reine, less than
two leagues from Paris, pillaged the surrounding country
and turned to Chartres, where tempest and sickness forced
Edward III. to come to terms. After the treaty of Bretigny,
in 1360, the Parisians saw their good King John again, who

120 PARIS AND ITS STORY

was ransomed for a sum equal to about ten million pounds
of present-day value. The memory of this and other
enormous ransoms exacted by the English endured for
centuries, and when a Frenchman had paid his creditors he
would say, — -fai paye mes Anglais."- (" I have paid my
English.") A magnificent reception was accorded to the four
English barons who came to sign the Peace at Paris. They
were taken to the Sainte-Chapelle and shown the fairest relics
and richest jewels in the world, and each was given a spine
from the crown of thorns, which he deemed the noblest jewel
that could be presented to him.

In 1364, after sowing dragons' teeth in France by
bestowing in appanage the duchy of Burgundy on his
youngest son Philip the Bold, King John the Good returned
to captivity and death at London in chivalrous atonement
for the breaking of parole by his second son, Louis of Anjou,
who had been interned at Calais as a hostage under the
treaty of 1360. The Dauphin, now Charles V., by careful
statesmanship succeeded in restoring order to the kingdom
and to its finances 2 and in winning some successes against the
English. The dread companies of routiers, after defeating
and slaying Jacques de Bourbon and capturing one hundred
French chevaliers, were bribed by Pope Innocent VI. to pass
into Lombardy, or induced to follow du Guesclin, the
national hero of the wars against the English, in a crusade
against Pedro the Cruel in Spain.

In 1370 the English camp fires were again seen outside
Paris : Charles refused battle and allowed them to ravage
the suburbs with impunity. Before the army left, an
English knight swore he would joust at the gates of the city,
and spurred lance in hand against them. As he turned to
ride back, a big butcher lifted his pole-axe, smote the knight
on the neck and felled him ; four others battered him to

1 Howell mentions the locution in a letter dated 1654.

2 Charles taxed and borrowed heavily. Even the members of his
household were importuned for loans, however small. His cook lent him
frs. 67.50.

THE ENGLISH INVASIONS 121

death, " their blows," says Froissart, "falling on his armour
like strokes on an anvil."

By wise counsel rather than by war Charles won back
much of his dismembered country. He was a great builder
and patron of the arts. He employed Raymond of the
Temple, his " beloved mason," to transform the Louvre
into a sumptuous palace with apartments for himself and his
queen, the princes of the blood and the officers of the royal
household. Each suite of apartments was furnished with a
private chapel, those of the king and queen being carved
with much "art and patience." A gallery was built for the
minstrels and players of instruments. A great garden was
planted towards the Rue St. Honore on the north, and
the old wall of Philip Augustus on the east, in which were
an "Hotel des Lions," or collection of wild beasts, and a
tennis court, where the king and princes played. The
palace accounts still exist, with details of payments for
" wine for the stone-cutters which the king our lord gave
them when he came to view the works." Jean Callow and
Geoffrey le Febre were paid for planting squares of straw-
berries, hyssop, sage, lavender, balsam, violets, and for making
paths, weeding and carrying away stones and filth ; others
were paid for planting bulbs of lilies, double red roses and
other good herbs. The first royal library was founded by
Charles, and Peter the Cage-maker was employed to protect the
library windows from birds and other beasts by trellises of
wire. An interesting payment of six francs in gold, made
to Jacqueline, widow of a mason " because she is poor and
helpless and her husband met his death in working for the
king at the Louvre," demonstrates that royal custom had
anticipated modern legislation.

Charles surrendered his palace in the Cite to the Parle-
ment, and erected an immense palace (known as the Hotel St.
Paul) in the east of Paris, outside the old wall, where he could
entertain the whole of the princes of the blood and their
suites. It was an irregular group of exquisite Gothic mansions
and chapels, furnished with sumptuous magnificence and sur-

122

PARIS AND ITS STORY

rounded by tennis courts, falconries, menageries, delightful
and spacious gardens — a hostel solennel des grands esbattements
(" a solemn palace of great delights/') This royal city within
a city covered a vast space, now roughly bounded by the Rue
St. Paul, the river, the Rue de 1' Arsenal and the Rue St.
Antoine. Charles VII. was the last king who dwelt there ;
the buildings fell to ruin, and between 15 19 and 155 1 were
gradually sold. No vestige of this palace of delight now
remains, nothing but the memory of it in a few street
^ names, — the streets

of the Fair Trellis,
of the Lions of St.

\^k

\\,

Paul, of the Gardei

1 "1 T '

of St. Paul, and 01
the Cherry Orchard.
To Charles V. is als<
due the beautiful
chapel of Vincennes
and the completion
of Etienne Marcel's
wall. This fourth
enclosure, began at
the Tour de Billi,
which stood at the
angle formed by th(
Gare del'Arsenal and
the Seine, extended
** north by the Boule-
vard Bourdon, the
Place de la Bastille,
and the line of the inner Boulevards to the Porte St. Denis
it then turned south-west by the old Porte Montmartre, the
Place des Victoires and across the garden of the Palais Royal
to the Tour de Bois, opposite the present Pont du Carrousel.
It was fortified by a double moat and square towers. The
south portion was never begun. To defend the Porte St.
Antoine, Charles laid the foundation of the Bastille oi

"f i

— r I

CHAPEL OF FORT VINCENNES.

THE MAILLOTINS 123

sinister fame — ever a hateful memory to the citizens, for it
was completed by the royal provost when the provost of
the merchants had been suppressed by Charles VI. in 1383.

"Woe to the nation whose king is a child!" During
the minority and reign of Charles VI. France lay prostrate
under a hail of evils that menaced her very existence, and
Paris was reduced to the profoundest misery and humiliation.
The breath had not left the old king's body before his elder
brother, the Count of Anjou, who was hiding in an adjacent
room, hastened to seize the royal treasure and the contents
of the public exchequer. No regent had been appointed,
and the four royal dukes, the young king's uncles of Anjou,
Burgundy, Bourbon, and Berri, began to strive for power.

In 1382 Anjou, who had been suffered to hold the re-
gency, sought to enforce an unpopular tax on the merchants of
Paris. The people revolted, armed themselves with the loaded
clubs (maillotins) stored in the Hotel de Ville for use against
the English, attacked the royal officers and opened the
prisons. The court temporised, promised to remit the tax
and to grant an amnesty ; but with odious treachery caused
the leaders of the movement to be seized, put them in sacks
and flung them at dead of night into the Seine. The angry
Parisians now barricaded their streets and closed their gates
against the king. Negotiations followed and by payment
of 100,000 francs to the Duke of Anjou the citizens were
promised immunity and the king and his uncles entered the
city. But the court nursed its vengeance, and after the
victory over the Flemings at Rosebecque the king and his
uncles with a powerful force marched on Paris. The
Parisians, 20,000 strong, stood drawn up in arms at Mont-
martre to meet him. They were asked who were their
chiefs and if the Constable de Clisson might enter Paris.
" None other chiefs have we," they answered " than the king
and his lords : we are ready to obey their orders." " Good
people of Paris," said the Constable on his arrival at their
camp, " what meaneth this ? meseems you would fight
against your king." They replied that their purpose was

I24

PARIS AND ITS STORY

but to show the king the puissance of his good city of
Paris. " 'Tis well," said the Constable, " if you would see
the king return to your homes and put aside your arms."

On the morrow, nth January 1383, the king and his
court, with 12,000 men-at-arms, appeared at the Porte St.
Denis, and there stood the provost of the merchants with the
chief citizens in new robes, holding a canopy of cloth of gold.
The king, with a fierce glance, ordered them back. The
gates were unhinged and flung down : the royal army
entered as in a conquered city. A terrible vengeance
ensued. The President of the Parlement and other civil
officers, with three hundred prominent citizens, were arrested
and cast into prison. In vain was the royal clemency
entreated by the Duchess of Orleans, the rector of the
university and chief citizens all clothed in black. The bloody
diurnal work of the executioner began and continued until
a general pardon was granted on March 1st on payment of
an enormous fine. The liberties of the city met the same
fate. The provostship of the merchants, and all the
privileges of the Parisians, were suppressed, and the hateful
taxes reimposed. Never had the heel of despotism ground
them down so mercilessly.

After cruelty and debauchery came madness. As Charles
one sultry August day was riding in the forest of le Mans
he suddenly drew his sword, wounded some of his escort
and attacked the Duke of Orleans. The demented king
was seized by the Duke of Burgundy and carried senseless
and bound into the city. In 1393, when he had some-
what recovered, a grand masked ball was given to
celebrate the wedding of one of the ladies of honour who
was a widow. The marriage of a widow was always the
occasion of riotous mirth, and the king disguised himself
and five of his courtiers as satyrs. They were sewed up
in tight-fitting vestments of linen, which were coated with
resin and pitch and covered with rough tow ; on their
heads they wore hideous masks. While the ladies of the
court were celebrating the marriage the king and his

On the Quai des Grands Auoustins.

JEAN SANS PEUR 125

companions rushed in howling like wolves and indulged
in the most uncouth gestures and jokes. The Duke of
Orleans, drawing too near with a torch to discover their
identity, set fire to the tow and in a second they were
enveloped in so many shirts of Nessus. Unable to fling off
their blazing dresses they madly ran hither and thither,
suffering the most excruciating agony and uttering piteous
cries. The king happened to be near the young Duchess
of Berri who, with admirable presence of mind, flung her
robe over him and rescued him from the flames. One
knight saved himself by plunging into a large tub of water
in the kitchen, one died on the spot, two died on the second
day, another lingered for three days in awful torment. The
horror of the scene x so affected Charles that his madness
returned more violently than ever.

The bitterness of the avuncular factions was now intensi-
fied. The House of Burgundy by marriage and other means
had grown to be one of the most powerful in Europe and was
at bitter enmity with the House of Orleans. At the death of
Philip the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, his son Jean sans Peur,
sought to assume his father's supremacy as well as his title :
the Duke of Orleans, strong in the queen's support, deter-
mined to foil his purpose. Each fortified his hotel in Paris
and assembled an army. Friends, however, intervened ; they
were reconciled, and in November 1407 the two dukes at-
tended mass at the Church of the Grands Augustins, took
the Holy Sacrament and dined together. As Jean rose from
table the Duke of Orleans placed the Order of the Porcupine
round his neck ; swore bonne amour et fraternity and they
kissed each other with tears of joy. On 23rd November
a forged missive was handed to the Duke of Orleans,
requiring his attendance on the queen at the Hotel St. Paul,
whither he often went to visit her. He set forth, attended
only by two squires and five servants carrying torches. 1 1 was
a sombre night, and as the unsuspecting prince rode up the

1 The scene is quaintly illustrated in an illuminated copy of Froissart
in the British Museum.

126

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Rue Vieille du Temple behind his little escort, humming a
tune and playing with his glove, a band of assassins fell

V^SNSll^ '! **' "^

v' 1 l* *

TOWER AT THE CORNER OF THE RUE VIEILLE DU TEMPLE AND THE RUE BARBETTE.

upon him from the shadow of the postern La Barbette,1
crying " a morty a mort" and he was hacked to death. Then
1 The scene of theassassinationismarked by an escutcheonand an inscription.

ARMAGNACS AND BURGUNDIANS 127

issued from a neighbouring house at the sign of Our Lady, a
tall figure concealed in a red cloak, lantern in hand, who
gazed at the mutilated corpse. " Cest bien" said he, "let's
away." They set fire to the house to divert attention and
escaped. Four months before, Jean sans Peur had hired the
house on the pretext of storing provisions, and for two weeks
a score of assassins had been concealed there, biding their
time. On the morrow, Jean with the other princes went to
asperse the dead body with holy water in the church of the
Blancs Manteaux, and as he drew nigh, exclaiming against
the foul murder, blood is said to have issued from the
wounds. At the funeral Jean held a corner of the pall, but
his guilt was an open secret, and though he braved it out for
a time he was forced to flee to his lands in. Flanders for
safety. In a few months, however, he was back in force at
Paris, and a doctor of the Sorbonne pleaded an elaborate
justification of the deed before the assembled princes,
nobles, clergy and citizens at the Hotel St. Paul. The
poor demented king was made to declare publicly that he
bore no ill-will to his dear cousin of Burgundy and later,
on the failure of a conspiracy of revenge by the queen
and the Orleans party, to grant full pardon for a deed
" committed for the welfare of the kingdom/' The
cutting of the Rue Etienne Marcel has exposed the
strong machicolated tower still bearing the arms of Bur-
gundy (two planes and a plumb line), which Jean sans Peur
built to fortify the Hotel de Bourgogne, as a defence and
refuge against the Orleans faction and the people of Paris.
The Orleans family had for arms a knotted stick, with the
device ilJe r ennuis" : the Burgundian arms with the motto,
" Je le tiens" implied that the knotted stick was to be planed
and levelled.

The arrival of Jean sans Peur, and the fortification of his
hotel were the prelude to civil war, for the Orleanists and their
allies had rallied to the Count of Armagnac, whose daughter the
new Duke of Orleans had married, and fortified themselves in
their stronghold on the site now occupied by the Palais Royal.

128

PARIS AND ITS STORY

The Armagnacs, for so the Orleanists were now called,
thirsted for revenge, and for five years Paris was the scene of

frightful atrocities
as each faction
gained the upper
hand and took a
bloody vengeance
on its rivals. At
length the in-
famous policy of
an alliance with
the English was
resorted to. The
temptation was
too great for the
English king, and
in 1415 Henry V.
met the French
army, composed
almost entirely of
the Armagnacs, at
Agincourt, and
inflicted on it a
defeat more dis-
astrous than Crecy
or Poitiers. The
famous oriflamme
|^gg||^v ofSt.Denispassed
""" " fiff from history in
that fatal year of
-— 141 c. The Count
IB!!*. ofArmagnachur-
ried to Paris,
seized the mad

TOWER OF JEAN SANS PEUR. king ^ ^ j^

in, and held the capital.

In 141 7 the English returned under Henry V. The

^Wtmnr,,

ARMAGNACS AND BURGUNDIANS 129

Burgundians had promised neutrality, and the defeated
Armagnacs were forced in their need to " borrow ■ of the
saints." But hateful memories clung to them in Paris and
they were betrayed. On the night of 29th May 141 8, the
son of an ironmonger on the Petit Pont, who had charge of
the wicket of the Porte St. Germain, crept into his father's
room and stole the keys while he slept. The gate was
then opened to the Burgundians, who seized the person of
the helpless and imbecile king. Some Armagnacs escaped,
bearing the dauphin with them, and the remainder were
flung into prison. The Burgundian partisans in the city,
among whom was the powerful corporation of the butchers
and fleshers, now rose, and on Sunday, 14th June, ran to the
prisons.

Before dawn fifteen hundred Armagnacs were indis-
criminately butchered under the most revolting circum-
stances. The count himself perished, and a strip of his
skin was carried about Paris in mockery of the white scarf
of the Armagnacs. Jean sans Peur and Queen Isabella2
entered the city, amid the acclamation of the people, and soon
after a second massacre followed, in spite of Jean's efforts to
prevent it. He was now master of Paris, but the Armagnacs
were swarming in the country around and the English
marching without let on the city. In these straits he sought
a reconciliation with the dauphin and his Armagnac
counsellors at Melun, on nth July 14 19. On 10th Sep-
tember a second conference was arranged, and duke and
dauphin, each with ten attendants, met in a wicker enclosure
on the bridge at Montereau. Jean doffed his cap and
knelt to the dauphin, but before he could rise was felled

1 They melted down the reliquaries in the Paris churches.

2 In 1 41 7 Charles, returning from a visit to the queen at the castle
of Vincennes, met the Chevalier Bois-Burdon going thither. He ordered
his arrest, and under torture a confession reflecting on the queen's honour
was extorted. Bois-Burdon was sewn in a sack and dropped into the Seine.
The queen was banished to Tours, and her jewels and treasures confis-
cated. Furious with the king and the Armagnac faction, she made
common cause with the Duke of Burgundy.

130

PARIS AND ITS STORY

by a blow from an axe and stabbed to death.1 In 1521
a monk at Dijon showed the skull of Jean sans Peur to
Francis I., and pointing to a hole made by the assassin's
axe, said : c< Sire, it was through this hole that the English
entered France."

On receipt of the news of his father's murder, the new
Duke of Burgundy, Philip le Bon, thirsting for vengeance,
flung himself into the arms of the English, and by the
treaty of Troyes on May 20, 1420, Henry V. was given
a French princess to wife and the reversion of the crown
of France, which, after Charles' death, was to be united ever
more to that of England. But the French crown never
circled Henry's brow : on August 31, 1422, he lay dead at
Vincennes. He was buried with great pomp in the royal
abbey of St. Denis, leaving an infant son of nine months to
inherit the dual monarchy. Within a few weeks of Henry's
death the hapless king of France was entombed under the
same roof; a royal herald cried "for God's pity on the
soul of the most high and most excellent Charles, king of
France, our natural sovereign lord," and in the next breath
hailed " Henry of Lancaster, by the grace of God, king of
France and of England, our sovereign lord." All the royal
officers reversed their maces, wands and swords as a token
that their functions were at an end. At the next festival
the Duke of Bedford was seen in the Sainte Chapelle of
the palace of St. Louis, exhibiting the crown of thorns to
the people as Regent of France, and a statue of Henry V.
of England was raised in the great hall, following on the
line of the kings of France from Pharamond to Charles.

1 A portrait of Jean sans Peur exists in the Louvre, No. 1002.

CHAPTER IX

JEANNE D\A.RC PARIS UNDER THE ENGLISH END OF

THE ENGLISH OCCUPATION

The occupation of Paris by the English was the darkest
hour in French story, yet amid the universal misery and
dejection the treaty of Troyes was hailed with joy. When
the two kings entered Paris after its signature, the whole
way from the Porte St. Denis to Notre Dame was filled with
people crying, " No'e'/y noil ! "

The university, the parlement, the queen-mother, the
whole of North France, from Brittany and Normandy to
Flanders, from the Channel to the line of the Loire, accepted
the situation, and the Duke of Burgundy, most powerful
of the royal princes, was a friend of the English. Yet a few
French hearts beat true. While the regent Duke of
Bedford was entering Paris, a handful of knights unfurled
the royal banner at Melun, crying — ''Long live King
Charles, seventh of the name, by the grace of God king of
France ! " And what a pitiful incarnation of national
independence was this to whom the devoted sons of France
were now called to rally ! — a feeble youth of nineteen,
indolent, licentious, mocked at by the triumphant English
as the u little king of Bourges."

The story of the resurrection of France at the call of an
untutored village girl is one of the most enthralling dramas
of history. When all men had despaired ; when the cruelty,
ambition and greed of the princes of France had wrought
her destruction ; when the miserable dauphin at Chinon
was prepared to seek safety by an ignominious flight to
Spain or Scotland ; when Orleans, the key to the southern
provinces, was about to fall into English hands — the

131

1 32 PARIS AND ITS STORY

means of salvation were revealed in the ecstatic visions of a
simple peasant maid. With that divine inspiration vouch-
safed alone to faith and fervent love, she saw with piercing
insight the essential things to be done. The siege of Orleans
must be raised and the dauphin anointed king at Rheims.
"The originality of the Maid," says Michelet, uand the
cause of her success was her good sense amid all her
enthusiasm and exaltation." We may not here narrate the
story of those miraculous three months of the year 1429
(27th April — 1 6th July), which saw the relief of Orleans, the
victories of Jargeau, of Patay (where invincible Talbot was
made prisoner), of the surrender of ill-omened Troyes and of
the solemn coronation at Rheims. Jeanne deemed her mission
over after Rheims, but to her ill-hap was persuaded to follow
the royal army after the retreat of the English from Senlis,
and on 23rd August she occupied St. Denis. She de-
clared at her trial that her voices told her to remain at St.
Denis, but that the lords made her attack Paris. On the
8th September the assault was made, but it was foiled by the
king's apathy, the incapacity and bitter jealousy of his counsel-
lors, and the action of double-faced Burgundy. In the
afternoon Jeanne, while sounding the depth of the fosse
with her lance,1 was wounded by an arrow in the thigh. She
remained till late evening, when she was carried away to St.
Denis, at whose shrine she hung up her arms — her mysterious
sword from St. Catherine de Fierbois and her banner of
pure white, emblazoned with the fleur-de-lys and the figure
of the Saviour, with the device " Jesu Maria."

Six months later, while Charles was sunk in sloth at the
chateau of Sully, Jeanne was captured by the Burgundians
at the siege of Compiegne, and her enemies closed on her
like bloodhounds. The university and the Inquisition
wrangled for her body, but English gold bought her from
her Burgundian captors and sent her to a martyr's death at

1 An equestrian statue in bronze stands at the south end of the Rue
des Pyramides, a few hundred yards from the spot where the Maid fell
before the Porte St. Honore.

JEANNE D'ARC 133

Rouen. Those who would read the sad record of her trial
may do so in the pages of Mr Douglas Murray's trans-
lation of the minutes of the evidence, and may assist in
imagination at the eighteen days' forensic baiting of the
hapless child (she was but nineteen years of age), whose
lucid simplicity broke through the subtle web of theological
chicanery which was spun to entrap her by the most cunning
of the Sorbonne doctors.

A summary of Jeanne's answers was sent to " Our
Mother, the University of Paris." The condemnation was
a foregone conclusion * and after a forced retractation, the
virgin saviour of France was led to her doom in the market-
place of Rouen. As she passed the lines of English soldiers,
their eyes flashing fierce hatred upon her, a cry escaped her,
" O Rouen, Rouen, must I then die here ? " With her last
breath she protested that her voices had not deceived her
and were of God ; and calling on " Jesus ! " her head sank
in the flames. "We are lost," said an English spectator ;
" we have burnt a saint ! "

Some contemporary letters from Venetian merchants in
the cities of France have recently been published, which
give valuable testimony to the sympathy evoked among
foreign residents by the career of Jeanne the Maid. To
them she was a zentil anzolo, "a gentle angel sent of God
to save the good land of France, the most noble country
in the world, which having purged its sins and pride God
snatched from the brink of utter destruction. For even as
by a woman, our Lady St. Mary, He saved the human race,
so by this young maiden pure and spotless He hath saved
the fairest pearl of Christendom."

"The English burnt her," says one of the merchants,
writing from Bruges, "thinking that fortune would turn
in their favour, but may it please Christ the Lord that the

1 The faculty of Theology declared her sold to the devil, impious to
her parents, stained with Christian blood. The faculty of Law decreed
her deserving of punishment, but only if she were obstinate and of sound
mind.

134

PARIS AND ITS STORY

contrary befall them ! " And so in truth it happened.
Disaster after disaster wrecked the English cause ; the Duke
of Bedford died, Philip of Burgundy and Charles were
reconciled and Queen Isabella went to a dishonoured grave.
The English were driven out of Paris, and in 1453, of
all the " large and ample empery " of France, won at the
cost of a hundred years of bloodshed and cruel devastation,
a little strip of land at Calais and Guines alone remained to
the English crown. Charles, who with despicable cowardice
had suffered the heroic Maid to be done to death by the
English without a thought of intervention, was moved to
call for a tardy reparation of the atrocious injustice at Rouen ;
and a quarter of a century after the Te Deum sung in
Notre Dame for her capture, another, a very different
scene, was witnessed in the cathedral. " The case for her
rehabilitation," says Mr Murray, "was solemnly opened
there, and the mother and brothers of the Maid came before
the court to present their humble petition for a revision of
her sentence, demanding only * the triumph of truth and
justice.' The court heard the request with some emotion.
When Isabel d'Arc threw herself at the feet of the Com-
missioners, showing the papal rescript and weeping aloud,
so many joined in the petition that at last, we are told,
it seemed that one great cry for justice broke from the
multitude."

The story of Paris under the English is a melancholy
one. Despite the rigid justice and enlightened policy of
Bedford's regency they failed to win the affection of the
Parisians. Rewards to political friends, punishments and
confiscations inflicted on the disaffected, the riotous and
homicidal conduct of some of the English garrison, the
depression in commerce and depreciation of property
brought their inevitable consequences — a growing hatred
of the English name.1 The chapter of Notre Dame was

1 In 142 1 and 1422 the people of Paris had seen Henry V. and his
French consort sitting in state at the Louvre, surrounded by a brilliant
throng of princes, prelates and barons. Hungry crowds watched the

PARIS UNDER THE ENGLISH

*35

compelled to sell the gold vessels from the treasury.
Hundreds of houses were abandoned by their owners, who
were unable to meet the charges upon them. In 1427 by a
royal instrument the rent of the Maison des Singes was
reduced from twenty-six livres to fourteen, " seeing the ex-
treme diminution of rents."

Some curious details of
life in Paris under the Eng-
lish have come down to us.
By a royal pardon granted
to Guiot d'Eguiller, we learn
that he and four other servants
of the Duke of Bedford, and
of our c'late very dear and
very beloved aunt the Duchess
of Bedford whom God pardon,"
were drinking one night at
ten o'clock in a tavern where
hangs the sign of U Homme
Arme.1 Hot words arose be-
tween them and some other
tipplers, to wit, Friars Robert, "
Peter and William of the
Blancs Manteaux, who were
disguised as laymen and wear-
ing swords. Friar Robert lost
his temper and struck at the
servants with his naked sword.
The friar, owing to the
strength of the wine or to inexperience in the use of
secular weapons, cut of? the leg of a dog instead of hitting
his man ; the friars then ran away, pursued by three of the

CLOISTER OF THE BILLETES, FIFTEENTH
CENTURY, RUE DE l'hOMME ARME.

sumptuous banquet and then went away fasting, for nothing was offered
them. " It was not so in the former times under our kings," they mur-
mured, "then there was open table kept, and servants distributed the
meats and wine even of the king himself."

1 Part of the Rue de l'Homme Arme still exists.

136

PARIS AND ITS STORY

servants — Robin the Englishman, Guiot d'Eguiller and one
Guillaume. The fugitive friars took refuge in a deserted
house in the Rue du Paradis (now des Francs Bourgeois),
and threw stones at their pursuers. There was a fight,
during which Guillaume lost his stick and snatching Guiot's
sword struck at Friar Robert through the door of the house.
He only gave one " cop" but it was enough, and there was
an end of Friar Robert.

A certain Gilles, a povre homme laboureur^ went to amuse
himself at a game of tennis in the hostelry kept by Guillaume
Sorel, near the Porte St. Honore, and fell a-wrangling with
Sorel's wife concerning some lost tennis balls. Madame
Sorel clutched him by the hair and tore out some handfuls,
Gilles seized her by the hood, disarranged her coif, so that it
fell about her shoulders, " and in his anger cursed God our
Creator." This came to the bishop's ears, and Gilles was cast
for blasphemy into the bishop's oven, as the episcopal
prison was called, where he lay in great misery. He was
examined and released on promising to offer a wax candle of
two pounds' weight before the image of our Lady of Paris at
the entrance of the choir of Notre Dame.

Many of the religious foundations had suffered by the
wars, for in 1426 the glovers of Paris were authorised to
re-establish the guild of the blessed St. Anne, founded by
some good people, smiths and ironmongers, which during
the wars and mutations of the last twenty years had come to
an end. In 1427, " our well-beloved, the money-changers of
the Grand Pont in our good town of Paris were permitted
to found a guild in the church of St. Bartholomew in honour
of our Creator and His very glorious Mother and St.
Matthew their patron. " In 1430 was granted the humble sup-
plication of the shoemakers, who desired to found a con-
fraternity to celebrate mass in the chapel at Notre Dame,
dedicated to " the blessed and glorious martyrs, Monseigneur
Crispin the Great, and Monseigneur Crispin the Less, who in
this life were shoemakers."

The fifteen years of English rule at Paris came to a

Our Lady of Paris — Early Fifteenth Century.

PARIS UNDER THE ENGLISH 137

close in 1446. In 1443 a goldsmith was at dejeuner with a
baker and a shoemaker, and they fell a-talking of the state
of trade, of the wars and of the poverty of the people of
Paris. The goldsmith * grumbled loudly and said that his
craft was the poorest of all ; people must have shoes and
bread, but none could afford to employ a goldsmith. Then,
thinking no evil, he said that good times would never return
in Paris until there were a French king, the university full
again, and the Parlement obeyed as in former times.
Whereupon Jean Trolet, the shoemaker, added that things
could not last in their present state, and that if there were
only five hundred men who would agree to begin a revolu-
tion, they would soon find thousands leagued with them.
The general unrest which this incident illustrates soon
burst forth in plot after plot, and on 13th April, 1446,
the Porte St. Jacques was opened by some citizens to the
Duke of Richemont, Constable of France, who, with 2000
knights and squires, entered the city and, to the cry of Ville
gagneel the fleur-de-lys waved again from the ramparts
of Paris. The English garrison under Lord Willoughby
fortified themselves in the Bastille of St. Antoine but capitu-
lated after two days. Bag and baggage, out they marched,
circled the walls as far as the Louvre, and embarked for
Rouen amid the execrations of the people. Never again
did an English army enter Paris until the allies marched in
after Waterloo in 1 8 1 5.

1 The fifteenth-century goldsmiths of Paris : Loris, the Hersants, and
Jehan Gallant, were famed throughout Europe.

CHAPTER X

LOUIS XI. AT PARIS THE INTRODUCTION OF PRINTING

Six centuries have failed to efface from the memory of the
French people the misery and devastation wrought by the
hundred years' wars, as travellers in rural France will know.
Paris saw little of Charles who, after the temporary activity
excited by the expulsion of the English, had sunk into his
habitual torpor, and his bondage to women. In 1461 the
wretched monarch, morbid and half-demented, died of a
malignant disease, all the time haunted by fears of poison
and filial treachery. The people named him Charles le bien
servi (the well-served), for small indeed was the praise due
to him for the great deliverance.

When the new king, Louis XL, quitted his asylum at
the Burgundian court to be crowned at Rheims and to
repair to St. Denis, he was shocked by the contrast between
the rich cities and plains of Flanders and the miserable
aspect of the country he traversed — ruined villages, fields
that were so many deserts, starving creatures clothed in
rags, and looking as if they had just escaped from dungeons.
The " Universal Spider," as the Duke of Burgundy called
Louis, was ever on the move about France, riding on
his mule from dawn to eve. " Our king," says De
Comines, "used to dress so ill that worse could not be —
often wearing bad cloth and a shabby hat with a leaden
image stuck in it." When he entered Abbeville with the
magnificent Duke of Burgundy, the people said
" Benedicite ! is that a king of France ? Why, his horse
and clothes together are not worth twenty francs ! " A
Venetian ambassador was amazed to see the most mighty
and most Christian king take his dinner in a tavern on the
market-place of Tours, after hearing mass in the cathedral.

138

LOUIS XL AT PARIS 139

It is not within our province to describe in detail the
successful achievement of Louis' policy of concentrating
the whole government in himself as absolute sovereign of
France by the overthrow of feudalism and the subjection of
the great nobles with their almost royal power and state.
His indomitable will, his consummate patience, his profound
knowledge of human motives and passions, his cynical
indifference to means, make him one of the most remark-
able of the kings of France. In 1465, menaced by a
coalition of nobles, the so-called League of the Public Good,
Louis hastened to the capital. Letters expressing his
tender affection for his dear city of Paris preceded him —
he was coming to confide to them his queen and hoped-
for heir ; rather than lose his Paris, which he loved
beyond all cities of the world, he would sacrifice half his
kingdom. But the Parisians at first were sullen and would
not be wooed, for they remembered his refusal to accord
them some privileges granted to other cities. The univer-
sity declined to arm her scholars, Church and Parlement
were hostile. The idle, vagabond clercs of the Palais and
the Cite composed coarse gibes and satirical songs and
ballads against his person. Louis, however, set himself with
his insinuating grace of speech to win the favour of the
Parisians. He chose six members from the Burgesses, six
from the Parlement and six from the university, to form
his Council. With daring confidence, he decided to arm
Paris. A levy of every male able to bear arms between
sixteen and sixty years of age was made, and the citizen
army was reviewed near St. Antoine des Champs, in the
presence of the king and queen. From 60,000 to 80,000
men, half of them well-armed, marched past, with sixty-
-seven banners of the trades guilds, not counting those of
the municipal officers, the Parlement and the university.
The nobles were checkmated, and they were glad to
accede to a treaty which gave them ample spoils and
Louis, time to recover himself. The " Public Good " was
barely mentioned.

140

PARIS AND ITS STORY

The king refused to occupy the palace of the Louvre and
chose to dwell in the new Hotel des Tournelles, near the
Porte St. Antoine, built for the Duke of Bedford and sub-
sequently presented to Louis when Dauphin by his royal
father ; for thither a star led him one evening as he left
Notre Dame. Often would he issue en bourgeois from the
Tournelles to sup with his gossips in Paris.

The institution of the mid-day Angelus, in 1472, was
due to Louis' devotion to the Virgin. He ordained that the
great bell of Notre Dame should be rung at noon as a signal
that the good people of Paris should recite the Ave Maria.
When in Paris scarcely a day passed without the king being
seen at mass, and at leaving he always gave an offering.

In 1475, Louis' old enemy, the Duke of Burgundy, was
seeking an alliance with Edward IV. of England, and once
more a mighty army entered France to reassert the claims
of the English kings to the French crown. Louis, by his
usual policy of flattery and bribery, succeeded in leading
Edward to negotiate. If he had had to meet in the flesh
the lion rampant on the English king's escutcheon, he could
not have taken ampler precautions. A bridge was built over
the Somme, near Amiens, " and in the middle thereof was a
strong trellis of wood such as is made for cages of lions,
and the holes between the bars were no larger than a man
could put his arm through." On either side of this cage
the monarchs and a score of courtiers met and conversed.
Louis had divided his enemies ; each in turn was cajoled
and bribed, and the " Hucksters' Peace " was concluded.

" When King Louis," says De Comines, " retired from the
interview he spake with me by the way and said he found
the English king too ready to visit Paris, which thing was
not pleasing to him. The king was a handsome man and
very fond of women ; he might find some affectionate
mistress there, who would speak him so many fair words
that she would make him desire to return ; his predecessor
had come too often to Paris and Normandy, and he did
not like his company this side the sea, but beyond the

Porch of St. Germain L'auxerrois

LOUIS XI. AT PARIS 141

sea he was glad to have him for friend and brother."
De Comines was informed next day by some English that
the peace had been made by the Holy Ghost, for a white
dove was seen resting on the king of England's tent during
the interview, and for no noise soever would she move ;
" but," said a sceptical Gascon gentleman, " it simply happened
to have rained during the day, and the dove settled on the
tent which was highest to dry her wings in the sun."

Louis had long desired to punish the Count of St.
Pol for treachery, and as a result of a treaty with Charles of
Burgundy, in 1475, nad n^m at length in the Bastille.
Soon on a scaffold in the Place de Greve his head rolled
from his body, and a column of stone twelve feet high
erected where he fell, gave terrible warning to traitorous
princes, however mighty ; for the count was Constable of
France, the king's brother-in-law, a member of the Imperial
House of Luxemburg, and connected with many of the
sovereign families of Europe.

Two years later another noble victim , the Duke of Nemours,
fell into the king's power and saw the inside of one of Louis'
iron cages in the Bastille. The king, who had learnt that the
chains had been removed from the prisoner's legs, commanded
his jailer not to let him budge from his cage except to be
tortured (gehenne) and the duke wrote a piteous letter, praying
for clemency and signing himself le pauvre Jacques. In vain :
him, too, the headsman's axe sent to his account.

The news of the humiliating Peace of Peronne, after the
king had committed the one great folly of his career by
gratuitously placing himself in Charles the Bold's power,1
was received by the Parisians with many gibes. The royal
herald proclaimed at sound of trumpet by the crossways of
Paris : " Let none be bold or daring enough to say anything
opprobrious against the Duke of Burgundy, either by word
of mouth, by writing, by signs, paintings, roundelays,
ballads, songs or gestures." On the same day a commission

1 The reader will hardly need to be reminded that this amazing folly
forms one of the principal episodes in Scott's Quentin Durivard.

1 42 PARIS AND ITS STORY

seized all the magpies and jackdaws in Paris, whether
caged or otherwise, which were to be registered accord-
ing to their owners, with all the pretty words that the
said birds could repeat and that had been taught them :
the pretty word that these chattering birds had been
taught to say was "Peronne." Louis' abasement at
Peronne was, however, amply avenged by the battle of
Granson, when the mighty host of " invincible " Charles was
overwhelmed by the Switzers in 1476. A year later, the
whole fabric of Burgundian ambition was shattered and the
great duke lay a mutilated and frozen corpse before the
walls of Nancy. Louis' joy at the destruction of his enemy
was boundless. The great provinces of Burgundy, of
Anjou, of Maine, Provence, Alencon and Guienne soon fell
under the sovereignty of France, whose boundaries now
touched the Alps. But in the very culmination of his
success Louis was struck down by paralysis, and though he
rallied for a time the end was near. Haunted by fear of
treachery, he immured himself in the gloomy fortress of
Plessis. The saintly Francesco da Calabria, relics from
Florence, from Rome, the Holy Oil from Rheims, turtles
from Cape Verde Islands — all were powerless ; the arch
dissembler must now face the ineluctable prince of the dark
realms, who was not to be bribed or cajoled even by kings.

When at last the king took to his bed, his physician,
Jacques Cottier, told him that most surely his hour was
come. Louis made his confession, gave much political
counsel and some orders to be observed by le Roi, as he
now called his son, and spoke, says De Comines, " as dryly
as if he had never been ill. And after so many fears and
suspicions Our Lord wrought a miracle and took him from
this miserable world in great health of mind and under-
standing. Having received all the sacraments and suffering
no pain and always speaking to within a paternoster of his
death, he gave orders for his sepulture. May the Lord
have his soul and receive him in the realm of Paradise ! "

It was in Louis' reign that the art of printing was intro-

INTRODUCTION OF PRINTING 143

duced into Paris. As early as 1458 the master of the mint
had been sent to Mainz to learn something of the new art,
but without success. In 1463, Fust and his partner,
Schoffer, had brought some printed books to Paris, but the
books were confiscated and the partners were driven out of
the city, owing to the jealousy of the powerful corporation of
the scribes and booksellers, who enjoyed a monopoly from
the Sorbonne of the sale of books in Paris ; and in 1474 Louis
paid an indemnity of 2500 crowns to Schoffer for the
confiscation of his books and for the trouble he had taken
to introduce printed books into his capital. In 1470, at the
invitation of two doctors of the Sorbonne, Guillaume Fichet
and Jean de la Puin, Ulmer Gering of Constance and two
other Swiss printers set up a press near Fichet's rooms in
the Sorbonne. In 1473 a press was at work at the sign
of the Soleil d'Or (Golden Sun), in the Rue St. Jacques,
under the management of two Germans, Peter Kayser,
Master of Arts, and John Stohl, assisted by Ulmer Gering.
In 1483 the last-named removed to the Rue de la Sorbonne,
where the doctors granted to him and his new partner,
Berthold Rumbolt of Strassburg, a lease for the term of
their lives. They retained their sign of the Soleil d'Or,
which long endured as a guarantee of fine printing. The
earliest works had been printed in beautiful Roman type,
but unable to resist the favourite Gothic introduced from
Germany, Gering was led to adopt it towards the year
1480, and the Roman was soon superseded. From 1480 to
1 500 we meet with many French printers' names : Antoine
Verard, Du Pre, Cailleau, Martineau, Pigouchet — clearly
proving that the art had then been successfully transplanted.
The re-introduction of Roman characters about 1 500 was
due to the famous house of the Estiennes, whose admirable
editions of the Latin and Greek classics are the delight of
bibliophiles. Robert Estienne was wont to hang proof sheets
of his Greek and Latin classics outside his shop, offering
a reward to any passer-by who pointed out a misprint or
corrupt reading. Their famous house was the meeting-

i44

PARIS AND ITS STORY

place of scholars and patrons of literature. Francis I. and
his sister Margaret of Angouleme, authoress of the
Heptameron, were seen there, and legend says that the king
was once kept waiting by the scholar-printer while he
finished correcting a proof. All the Estienne household,
even the children, conversed in Latin, and the very servants
are said to have grown used to it. In 1563 Francis I.
remitted 30,000 livres of taxes to the printers of Paris, as
an act of grace to the professors of an art that seemed
rather divine than human. But in spite of royal favour
printing was a poor career. The second Henry Estienne,
who composed a Greek-Latin lexicon, died in poverty at a
hospital in Lyons ; the last of the family, the third
Robert Estienne, met a similar miserable end at the Hotel
Dieu in Paris. So great was 4:he re-action in the university
against the violence of the Lutherans and the daring of the
printers, that in 1534 all the presses were ordered to be
closed. In 1537 no book was allowed to be printed with-
out permission of the Sorbonne, and in 1556 an order was
made, it is said at the instance of Diane de Poitiers, that a
copy in vellum of every book printed by royal privilege
should be deposited at the royal library. After Gering's
death the forty presses then working in Paris were reduced
to twenty-four, in order that every printer might have
sufficient work to live by and not be tempted by poverty
to print prohibited books or execute cheap and inferior
printing.

CHAPTER XI

FRANCIS I. THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS

The advent of the printing-press and the opening of a
Greek lectureship by Gregory Tyhernas and Hermonymus
of Sparta at the Sorbonne warns us that we are at the end
of an epoch. With the accession of Charles VIII. and the
beginning of the Italian wars a new era is inaugurated.
Gothic architecture had reached its final development and
structural perfection, in the flowing lines of the flamboyant
style.1 Painting and sculpture, both in subject, matter and
style, assume a new aspect. The diffusion of ancient
literature and the discovery of a new world, open wider
horizons to men's minds, and human thought and human
activity are directed towards other, and not always nobler,
ideals. Medievalism passes away and Paris begins to
clothe herself in a new vesture of stone.

The Paris of the fifteenth century was a triple city of
narrow, crooked, unsavoury streets, of overhanging timbered
houses, "thick as ears of corn in a wheat-field," from
which emerged the innumerable spires and towers of her
churches and palaces and colleges. In the centre was the
legal and ecclesiastical Cite, with its magnificent Palais de
Justice ; its cathedral and a score of fair churches enclosed
in the island, which resembled a great ship moored to the
banks of the Seine by five bridges all crowded with houses.
One of the most curious characteristics of Old Paris was the
absence of any view of the river, for a man might traverse
its streets and bridges without catching a glimpse of the
Seine.

1 Flamboyant windows were a natural, technical development of
Gothic. The aim of the later builders was to facilitate the draining away
of the water which the old mullioned windows used to retain.
K 145

146 PARIS AND ITS STORY

The portal of the Petit Chatelet at the end of the Petit
Pont opened on the university and learned district on the
south bank of the Seine, with its fifty colleges and many
churches clustering about the slopes of the mount of St.
Genevieve, which was crowned by the great Augustine abbey
and church founded by Clovis. Near by stood the two
great religious houses and churches of the Dominicans and
Franciscans (Jacobins and Cordeliers), the Carthusian
monastery and its scores of little gardens, the lesser monastic
buildings and, outside the walls, the vast Benedictine
abbatial buildings and suburb of St. Germain des Pres, with
its stately church of three spires, its fortified walls, its
pillory and its permanent lists, where judicial duels were
fought. On the north bank lay the busy, crowded
industrial and commercial district known as the Ville, with its
forty-four churches, the hotels of the rich merchants and
bankers, the fortified palaces of the nobles, all enclosed by
the high walls and square towers of Charles the Fifth's for-
tifications, and defended at east and west by the Bastille of
St. Antoine and the Louvre. To the east stood the Hotel
St. Paul, a royal city within a city, with its manifold princely
dwellings and fair gardens and pleasaunces sloping down
to the Seine ; hard by to the north was the Duke of
Bedford's Hotel des Tournelles, with its memories of the
English domination. At the west, against the old Louvre,
were, among others, the hotels of the Constable of Bourbon
and the Duke of Alencon, and out in the fields beyond, the
smoking kilns of the Tuileries (tile factories).

North and east and west of the municipal centre, the
Maison des Piliers, or old Hotel de Ville on the Place de
Greve, was a maze of streets filled with the various crafts of
Paris. The tower of St. Jacques de la Boucherie, as yet
unfinished, emerged from the butchers' and skinners' shops
and slaughter-houses, which at the Rue des Lombards met
the clothiers and furriers ; the cutlers and the basket-
makers were busy in streets now swept away to give place to
the Avenue Victoria. Painters, glass-workers and colour

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS

merchants, grocers and druggists, made bright and fragrant
the Rue de la
Verrerie, weavers'
shuttles rattled
in the Rue de la
Tixanderie (now
swallowed up
in the Rue de
Rivoli) ; curriers
and tanners plied
their evil-smell-
ing crafts in the
Rue (now Quai)
de la Megisserie,
and bakers
crowded along
the Rue St.
Honore. The
Rue des Juifs
sheltered the an-
cestral traffic of
the children of
Abraham. At
the foot of the
Pont au Change,
on which were
the shops of the
goldsmiths and
money - lenders,
stood the grim
thirteenth - cen-
tury fortress of
the Chatelet, the
municipal guard-
house and pris-
on ; further on stood the episcopal prison, or Four de
r Eve que (the bishop's oven). Round the Chatelet was a

TOWER OF ST. JACQUES.

148 PARIS AND ITS STORY

congeries of narrow, crooked lanes, haunts of ill-fame, where
robbers lurked and vice festered. A little to the north were
the noisy market-place of the Halles and the cemetery of the
Innocents with its piles of skulls, and its vaulted arcade painted
(1424) with the Dance of Death. Further north stood the
immense abbey of St. Martin in the Fields, with its cloister
and gardens and, a little to the west, the grisly fortress of
the Knights-Templars. This is the Paris conjured from the
past with such magic art by Victor Hugo in " Notre
Dame," and gradually to be swept away in the next cen-
turies by the Renaissance, pseudo-classic and Napoleonic
builders and destroyers, until to-day scarcely a wrack is
left behind.

With the Italian campaigns of Charles VIII. and of the
early Valois-Orleans kings, France enters the arena of
European politics, wrestles with the mighty Emperor
Charles V. and embarks on a career of transalpine conquest.
But in Italy, conquering France was herself conquered by
the charm of Italian art, Italian climate and Italian land-
scape. When Charles VIII. returned from his expedition
to Naples he brought with him a collection of pictures,
tapestry, and sculptures in marble and porphyry, that weighed
thirty-five tons ; by him and his successors Italian builders,
Domenico da Cortona and Fra Giocondo, were employed.
The latter rebuilt the Petit Pont and after the destruction
of the last wooden Pont Notre Dame in 1499 — when the
whole structure, with its houses and shops, fell with a fearful
crash into the river — he was employed to replace it with a
stone bridge, which was completed in 1507. This, too, was
lined with tall, gabled houses of stone, seventeen each side,
their facades decorated with medallions of the kings of
France, which alternated with fine Renaissance statues of
male and female figures bearing baskets of fruit and flowers
on their heads. These houses were the first in Paris to be
numbered, odd numbers on one side, even on the other,
and were the first to be demolished when, on the eve of the
Revolution, Louis XVI. ordered the bridge to be cleared.

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS

149

Worthy Friar Giocondo wrought well, for the bridge still
exists, though refaced and altered. Louis XII., with his
own hand, entreated Leonardo da Vinci to come to France,
and his great minister, the Cardinal of Amboise, employed
Solario at the chateau of Gaillon.1 But the French

PONT NOTRE DAME.

Renaissance is indissolubly associated with Francis I., who in
15 15 inherited a France welded into a compact2 and
absolute monarchy, inhabited by a prosperous and loyal
people, for the twelfth Louis had been a good and wise ruler,
who to the amazement of his people returned to them the

1 One of the facades of this remarkable building may be seen in the
courtyard of the Beaux Arts at Paris.

2 Brittany was incorporated with the Monarchy 1491.

i5°

PARIS AND ITS STORY

balance of a tax levied to meet the cost of the Genoese
Expedition, which had been overestimated, saying, u It will
be more fruitful in their hands than in mine." Commerce
had so expanded that it was said that for every merchant
seen in Paris in former times there were, in his reign, fifty.
Louis introduced the cultivation of maize and the mulberry
into France, and so rigid was his justice that poultry ran
about the open fields without risk. It was the accrued
wealth of his reign, and the love inspired by " Louis, father
of his people," ■ that supported the magnificence, the luxury
and the extravagance of Francis I., the patron of the Italian
Renaissance. The architectural creations of the new art
were first seen in Touraine, in the royal palaces of Blois and
Chambord, and other princely and noble chateaux along the
luscious and sunny valleys of the Loire. Italian architecture
was late in making itself felt in Paris, where the native art
made stubborn resistance.

The story of the state entry of Francis I. into Paris after
the death of Louis XII. is characteristic. Clothed in a
gorgeous suit of armour and mounted on a barbed charger,
accoutred in white and cloth of silver, the young king would
not remain under the royal canopy, but pricked his steed and
made it prance and rear that he might display his horseman-
ship, his fine figure and his dazzling costume before the
ladies. " Born between two adoring women," says Michelet,
" the king was all his life a spoilt child." Money flowed
through his hands like water2 to gratify his ambition, his
passions and his pleasures. Doubtless his interviews with
Da Vinci at Amboise, where he spent much of his time in the
early years of his reign, fired that enthusiasm for art,
especially for painting, which never wholly left him ; for the
veteran artist, although old and paralysed in the right hand,

T The good king's portrait by an Italian sculptor may be seen in the
Louvre, Room VII., and on his monument in St. Denis he kneels beside
his beloved and chere Bretonne, Anne of Brittany, whose loss he wept for
eight days and nights.

2 " He was well named after St. Francis, because of the holes in his
hands," said a Sorbonne doctor.

Jean Clouet.

Portrait of Francis I.

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS

151

was otherwise in possession of all his incomparable
faculties.

The question as to the existence of an indigenous school
of painting before the Italian artistic invasion is still a
subject of acrimonious discussion among critics ; there is
none, however, as to its existence in the plastic arts. The
old French tradition died hard, and not before it had stamped
upon Italian Renaiss-
ance architecture the
impress of its native
genius and adapted it
to the requirements of
French life and climate.
The Hotel de Cluny,
finished in 1490, still
remains to exemplify
the beauty of the native
French domestic archi-
tecture modified by the
new style. The Hotel
de Ville, designed by
Dom. da Cortona and
submitted to Francis
in 1532, is dominated
by the French style,
and it was not until
nearly a century after
the first Italian Expedition that the last Gothic builders were
superseded. The fine Gothic church of St. Merri was begun
as late as 1520 and not finished till 161 2, and the transitional
churches of St. Etienne and St. Eustache remind one, by the
mingling of Gothic and Renaissance features, of the famous
metamorphosis of Agnel and Cianfa in Dante's Inferno,
and one is tempted to exclaim, Ome come ti muti ! Vedi che
gia non set ne duo ne uno ! l

After the death of Da Vinci Francis never succeeded in
1 "Ah! me, how thou art changed ! See, thou art neither two nor one."

'J:

■"♦¥',

•r,:1**11

' At*'

CHAPEL, HOTEL DE CLUNY.

152

PARIS AND ITS STORY

retaining a first-rate painter in his service. Andrea del
Sarto and Paris Bordone did little more than pay passing
visits, and the famous school of Fontainebleau was founded
by Rosso and Primaticcio, two decadent followers of
Michel Angelo. The adventures of that second-rate artist
and first-rate bully, Benvenuto Cellini, at Paris, form one of
the most piquant episodes in artistic autobiography. After a
gracious welcome from the king he was offered an annual

retaining fee of three
hundred crowns. He
at once dismissed his
two apprentices and left
in a towering rage, only
returning on being
offered the same ap-
pointments that had
been enjoyed by Leon-
ardo da Vinci — seven
hundred crowns a year,
and payment for every
finished work. The
Petit Tour de Nesle
was assigned to Cellini
and his pupils as a
workshop, the king
assuring him that force
would be needed to
"Take great care you are

WEST DOOR OF ST. MERRI.

evict the possessor, adding,

not assassinated. " On complaining to the king of the
difficulties he met with and the insults offered to him on
attempting to gain possession, he was answered : " If you are
the Benvenuto I have heard of, live up to your reputation ;
I give you full leave." Cellini took the hint, armed himself,
his servants and two apprentices, and frightened the occupants
and rival claimants out of their wits. It was at this Tour de
Nesle that the king paid Cellini a surprise visit with his
mistress Madame d'Estampes, his sister Margaret of Valois,

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS

153

the Dauphin and his wife, Catherine de' Medici, the Cardinal
of Lorraine, Henry II.
of Navarre, and a numer-
ous train of courtiers.
The artist and his merry
men were at work on
the famous silver statue
of Jupiter for Fontaine-
bleau, and amid the noise
of the hammering the
king entered unper-
ceived. Cellini had the
torso of the statue in his
hand, and at that moment
a French lad who had
caused him some little
displeasure had felt the
weight of the master's

foot, which sent him fly-
ing against the king.
But Cellini had done a
bad day's work by vio-
lently evicting a servant
of Madame d'Estampes
from the Tower, and
the injured lady and
Primaticcio, her protege^
decided to work
his ruin. When "j££j
Cellini arrived at #£^
Fontainebleau with
the statue, the king
ordered it to be
placed in the grand
gallery decorated
by Rosso. Prima-
ticcio had just arranged there the casts which he had been com-

TOWER OF ST. ETIENNE DU MONT.

154

PARIS AND ITS STORY

missioned to bring from Rome, and Cellini saw what was meant
— his own work was to be eclipsed by the splendour of the
masterpieces of ancient art. " Heaven help me ! " cried he,
" this is indeed to fall against the pikes ! " Now the god
held the globe of the earth in the left hand, the thunderbolt
in the right. Cellini contrived to thrust a portion of a large
wax candle as a torch between the flames of the bolt, and set
the statue up on its gilded pedestal. Madame entertained
the king late at table, hoping that he would either forget or
see the work in a bad light ; but when the king entered the
gallery late at night, followed by his courtiers, " which by
God's grace was my salvation/' says Cellini, the statue
was illuminated by a flood of light from the torch which so
enhanced its beauty that the king was ravished with delight,
and expressed himself in ecstatic praise, declaring the statue
to be more beautiful and more marvellous than any of the
antique casts around. His enemies were thus discomfited,
and on Madame d'Estampes endeavouring to depreciate the
work, she was grossly mocked by the artist in a very char-
acteristic and quite untranscribable way. Benvenuto was
more than ever patronised by the king, who did him the
great honour of accosting him as mon ami, and approving his
scheme for the fortification of Paris. The artist often
remembered with pleasure the four years he spent with the
gran re Francesco at Paris.

" The French are remembered in Italy only by the
graves they left there," said De Comines, and once again the
Italian campaigns ended in disaster. At the defeat of Pavia,
in 1525 — the Armageddon of the French in Italy — the
efforts and sacrifices of three reigns were lost and the gran re
went captive to the king of Spain in Madrid, whence he
issued, stained by perjury and three years later, signed "the
moral annihilation of France in Europe," at Cambray.

During the tranquil intervals that ensued on this rude
awakening from dreams of an Italian Empire,and the third and
fourth wars with the emperor, the king was able to give effect
to a project that had long been dear to him. "Come," says

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS 155

Michelet, "in the still, dark night, climb the Rue St.
Jacques, in the early winter's morning. See you yon lights ?
Men, even old men, mingled with children, are hurrying, a
folio under one arm, in the other an iron candlestick. Do
they turn to the right ? No, the old Sorbonne is yet sleep-
ing snug in her warm sheets. The crowd is going to the Greek
schools. Athens is at Paris. That man with the fine beard
in majestic ermine is a descendant of emperors — Jean Las-
caris ; that other doctor is Alexander, who teaches Hebrew."
The schools they were pressing to were those of the
Royal College of France. Already in 15 17 Erasmus
had been offered a salary of a thousand francs a year, with
promise of further increment, to undertake the direction of
the college, but declined to leave his patron the emperor.
The prime movers in the great scheme were the king's
confessor, Guillaume Parvi, and the famous Grecian, Guil-
laume Bude, who in 1530 was himself induced to under-
take the task which Erasmus had declined. Twelve
professors were appointed in Greek, Hebrew, mathematics,
philosophy, rhetoric and medicine, each of the twelve
with a salary of two hundred gold crowns (about ^80), and
the dignity of royal councillors. The king's vast scheme of
a great college and magnificent chapel, with a revenue of
50,000 crowns for the maintenance (nourriture) of six
hundred scholars, where the most famous doctors in Chris-
tendom should offer gratuitous teaching in all the sciences
and learned languages, was never executed. Too much
treasure had been wasted in Italy, and it was not till the
reign of Louis XIII. that it was partially carried out. The
first stone was laid in 16 10, but the college as we now see it
was not completed till 1770; before the construction the
professors taught in the colleges of Treguier and
Cambray. Chairs were founded for Arabic by Henry III., for
surgery, anatomy and botany by Henry IV., and for Syrian
by Louis XIV. Little is changed to-day ; the placards, so
familiar to students in Paris, announcing the lectures, are
indited in French instead of in Latin as of old ; the lectures

i56

PARIS AND ITS STORY

are still free to all, and the most famous scholars of the day
teach there, but in French and not in Latin.1

How dramatic are the contrasts of history ! While the
new learning was organising itself amid the pomp of royal
patronage, while the young Calvin was sitting at the feet
of its professors and the Lutheran heresy germinating at Paris,
Ignatius Loyola, an obscure Spanish soldier and gentlemen
of thirty-seven years of age, was sitting — a strange mature
figure — among the boisterous young students at the College
of St. Barbara, patiently preparing himself for dedication
to the service of the menaced Church of Rome ; and in
1534, on the festival of the Assumption of the Blessed
Virgin, a little group of six companions met around the
fervent student, in the crypt of the old church at Mont-
martre, and decided to found on the holy hill of St. Denis'
martyrdom the first house of the Society of Jesus.

In 1528, says the writer of the so-called Journal dun Bour-
geois de Paris, the king began to pull down the great tower of
the Louvre, in order to transform the chateau into a logis de
plaisance, " yet was it great pity for the castle was very fair and
high and strong, and a most proper prison to hold great men."

The tall, massive keep, which darkened the royal apart-
ments in the south wing, was the tower here meant, and
after some four months' work, and an expenditure of 2500
livres, the grim pile, with its centuries of history, was cleared
away. Small progress, however, had been made with the
restoration of the old chateau up to the year 1539, when
the heavy cost of preparing the west wing for the reception
of the Emperor Charles V., induced Francis to consider a
plan which involved the replacement of the whole fabric by
a palace in the new Renaissance style. In 1546 Pierre

1 Travellers to Paris in the days of King Francis had cause to
remember gratefully that monarch's solicitude, for a maximum of charges
was fixed, and an order made that every hotel-keeper should affix hi&
prices outside the door, that extortion might be avoided. Among
other maxima, the price of a pair of sheets, to "sleep not more than
five persons," was to be five deniers (a penny).

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS

Lescot was appointed architect without salary, but given the
office of almoner to the king, and made lay abbot of Cler-
mont. Pierre Lescot was an admirable artist, who has left us
some of the finest examples of early French Renaissance archi-
tecture in Paris. But Francis lived only to see the great scheme
begun, most of Lescot' s work being done under Henry II.

From the same anonymous writer we learn some-
thing of Parisian life in the reign of Francis I. One
day a certain Monsieur Cruche, a popular poet and
playwright, was performing moralities and novelties on a
platform in the Place Maubert, and among them a farce,
" funny enough to make half a score men die of laughter,
in which the said Cruche, holding a lantern, feigned to
perceive the doings of a hen and a salamander."1 The
amours of the king with the daughter of a councillor
of the Parlement, named Lecoq, were only too plainly
satirised. But it is ill jesting with kings. A few nights
later, Monsieur Cruche was visited by eight disguised
courtiers, who treated him to a supper in a tavern at
the sign of the Castle in the Rue de la Juiverie, and
induced him to play the farce before them. When the un-
happy player came to the first scene, he was set upon by the
king's friends, stripped and beaten almost to death with
thongs. They were about to put him in a sack and throw
him into the Seine, when poor Cruche, crying piteously,
discovered his priestly tonsure, and thus escaped.

Public festivities were held with incredible magnifi-
cence. When the English envoys entered Paris in 151 8,
there was the finest triumph ever seen. The king, the
royal princes, five cardinals and a train of lords and dukes
and counts, with a gorgeous military pageant, met them
and conducted them to Notre Dame, whose interior was
almost hidden under decorations of tapestry and of cloth
of silver and of gold. A pavilion of cloth of gold,
embroidered with the royal salamander, moult riche et
fort triomphante, supported by four columns of solid

1 The salamander was figured on the royal arms of Francis.

i58 PARIS AND ITS STORY

silver, was erected, and was so large that some of the masonry
between the choir and the high altar had to be removed to
give it place. The banquet by night at the Bastille was the
most solemn and sumptuous ever seen ; the whole court-
yard was draped and the edifice lighted by ten thousand
torches ; words fail to describe the triumph of the meats and
table decorations. The feast ended at midnight and was fol-
lowed by dances of moriscos attired in cloth of silver and of
gold, by jousts and princely gifts. The extravagance of
Francis was prodigious ; a Venetian ambassador estimated the
annual ordinary expenses of the court at 1,500,000 " crowns ;
another describes the people as "eaten to the bone by taxes."
Cellini declares that the king on his travels was accompanied
by a train of 12,000 horse.

After the defeat at Pavia, the king became excessively
pious. By trumpet cry at the crossways, games —
quoits, tennis, contre-boulle — were prohibited on Sundays ;
children were forbidden to sing along the streets, going to
and from school. Blasphemers2 were to be severely
punished. In 1527 a notary was burned alive in the Place
de Greve for a great blasphemy of our Lord and His
holy Mother. In June of the next year some Lutherans
struck down and mutilated an image of the Virgin and
Child at a street corner near St. Gervais ; the king was
so grieved and angry that he wept violently, and offered
a reward of one hundred gold crowns, but the offenders
could not be found. Daily processions came from the
churches to the spot, and all the religious orders, clothed
in their habits, followed, " singing with such great
fervour and reverence, that it was fair to see." The
rector and doctors, masters and bachelors, scholars of
the university, and children with lighted tapers, went
there in great reverence. On Corpus Christi day the
street was draped and a fair canopy stretched over the

1 About ^600,000 in present-day value.

2 For the first offence a fine ; for the second, the lips to be cloven ;
for the third, the tongue pierced ; for the fourth, death.

THE RENAISSANCE AT PARIS 159

statue. The king himself walked in procession, bear-
ing a white taper, his head uncovered in moult gran
reverence; hautboys, clarions and trumpets played
melodiously. Cardinals, prelates, great seigneurs and
nobles, each with his taper of white wax, followed, with
the royal archers of the guard in their train. On
the morrow a procession from all the parishes of Paris,
with banners, relics and crucifixes, accompanied by the
king and nobles, brought a new and fair image of
silver, two feet in height, which the king had caused
to be made. Francis himself ascended a ladder and
placed it where the other image had stood, then kissed
it and descended with tears in his eyes. Thrice he
kneeled and prayed, the bishop of Lisieux, his almoner,
reciting fair orisons and lauds to the honour of the
glorious Virgin and her image. Again the trumpets,
clarions and hautboys played the Ave Regina ccelorum^
and the king, the cardinal of Louvain, and all the nobles
presented their tapers to the Virgin. Next day the Par-
lement, the provost and sheriffs, came and put an iron
trellis round the silver image for fear of robbers.1

Never were judicial and ecclesiastical punishments so
cruel and recurrent as during the period of the Renaissance.
It is a common error to suppose that judicial cruelty reached
its culmination in the Middle Ages. Punishments are des-
cribed with appalling iteration in the pages we are following.
The Place de Greve was the scene of mutilations, tor-
tures, hangings and quarterings of criminals and traitors,
the king and his court sometimes looking on. Coiners
of false money were boiled alive at the pig- market;
robbers and assassins were broken on the wheel and
left to linger in slow agony (tant qu'ils pourraient languir).
The Lutherans were treated like vermin, and to harbour
them, to possess or print or translate one of their books,

xThe image was stolen in 1545 and replaced by one of wood. This
was struck down in 1 55 1, and the bishop of Paris substituted for it one
of marble.

160 PARIS AND ITS STORY

meant a fiery death. In 1525 a young Lutheran student
was put in a tumbril and brought before the churches
of Notre Dame and St. Genevieve, crying mercy from
God and Mary and St. Genevieve ; he was then taken
to the Place Maubert, where, after his tongue had been
pierced, he was strangled and burnt. A gendarme of
the Duke of Albany was burnt at the pig-market for
having sown Lutheran errors in Scotland ; before his
execution his servant was whipped and mutilated before
him at the cart- tail, but was pardoned on recantation.

On Corpus Christi day, 1532, a great procession was
formed, the king and provost walking bare-headed to
witness the burning of six Lutherans — a scene often
repeated. The Fountain of the Innocents, the Halles,
the Temple, the end of the Pont St. Michel, the Place
Maubert, and the Rue St. Honore were indifferently
chosen for these ghastly scenes. Almost daily the fires
burnt. A woman was roasted to death for eating flesh
on Fridays. In 1535, so savage were the persecutions,
that Pope Paul III., with that gentleness which almost
invariably has characterised Rome in dealing with heresy,
wrote to Francis protesting against the horrible and exe-
crable punishments inflicted on the Lutherans, and warned
him that although he acted from good motives, yet
he must remember that God the Creator, when in this
world, used mercy rather than rigorous justice, and
that it was a cruel death to burn a man alive ; he
therefore prayed and required the king to appease the
fury and rigour of his justice and adopt a policy of
mercy and pardon. This noble protest was effective, and
some clemency was afterwards shown. But in 1547
the fanatical king, a mass of physical and moral cor-
ruption, soured and gloomy, went to his end amid the
barbarities wreaked on the unhappy Vaudois Protestants.
The cries of three thousand of his butchered subjects and
the smoke from the ruins of twenty-five towns and hamlets
were the incense of his spirit's flight.

LA FONTAINE DES INNOCENTS.

CHAPTER XII

RISE OF THE GUISES HUGUENOT AND CATHOLIC-
MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW

-THE

"Beware of Montmorency and curb the power of the Guises,"
was the counsel of the dying Francis to his son. Henry II.,
dull and heavy-witted that he was, neglected the advice, and
the Guises flourished in the sun of royal favour. The first
Duke of Guise and founder of his renowned house was
Claude, a poor cadet of Rene II., Duke of Lorraine. He
succeeded in allying by marriage his eldest son and successor,
Francis, to the House of Bourbon ; his second son, Charles,
became Cardinal of Lorraine, and his daughter, wife to James
V. of Scotland. Duke Francis, by his military genius and wise
statemanship ; Charles, by his learning and subtle wit, exalted
their house to the lofty eminence it enjoyed during the
stirring period that now opens. In 1558, after the disastrous
defeat of Montmorency at St. Quentin, when Paris lay at
the mercy of the Spanish and English armies, the duke was
recalled from Italy and made Lieutenant- General of the
L 161

1 62 PARIS AND ITS STORY

realm. By a short and brilliant campaign, he expelled the
English from Calais, and recovered in three weeks the
territory held by them for more than two hundred years.
Francis gained an unbounded popularity, and rose to the
highest pinnacle of success ; but short time was left to
his royal master wherein to enjoy a reflected glory. On
the 27th June 1559, lists were erected across the Rue St.
Antoine, between the Tournelles and the Bastille. The
peace with Spain, and the double marriage of the king's
daughter to Philip II. of Spain and of his sister to the
Duke of Savoy, were to be celebrated by a magnificent
tournament in which the king, proud of his strength and
bodily address, was to hold the field with the Duke of Guise
and the princes against all comers. For three days the
king distinguished himself by his triumphant prowess, and
at length challenged the Duke of Montgomery, captain of
the Scottish Guards ; the captain prayed to be excused,
but the king insisted and the course was run. Several
lances were broken, but in the last encounter the stout
captain failed to lower his shivered lance quickly enough,
and the broken truncheon struck the royal visor, lifted it
and penetrated the king's eye. Henry fell senseless and was
carried to the palace of the Tournelles, where he died after
an agony of eleven days. Fifteen years later, Montgomery
was captured fighting with the Huguenots, and beheaded
on the Place de Greve while Catherine de' Medici looked on
" pour gouter" says Felibien quaintly, " le plaisir de se voir
vangee de la mort de son mary." The tower in the
interior of the Palais de Justice, where the unhappy
Scottish noble was imprisoned after his capture, was
known as the Tour Montgomery, until demolished in
the reign of Louis XVI. There was, however, little love
lost between Henry's queen, Catherine de' Medici, and her
royal husband, who had long neglected her for the maturer
charms of his mistress, Diane de Poitiers.

Henry saw Lescot's admirable design for the recon-
struction of the west wing of the Louvre completed. The

164

PARIS AND ITS STORY

architect had associated a famous sculptor, Jean Goujon, with
him, who executed the beautiful figures in low relief
which still adorn the quadrangle front between the
Pavilion de l'Horloge and the south-west angle, and the
noble Caryatides, which support the musicians' gallery in
the Salle Basse, or Salle des Fetes, now known as the Salle
des Caryatides. The agreement, dated 5th September 1550,
awards forty-six livres each for the four plaster models and
eighty crowns each for the four carved figures. Lescot
preserved the external wall of the old chateau as the
kernel of his new wing, and the enormous strength of the
original building of Philip Augustus may be estimated by
the fact that the embrasures of each of the five casements
of the first floor looking westwards now serve as offices.
So grandement satisfait was Henry with the perfection of
Lescot's work, that he determined to continue it along
the remaining three wings, that the court of the Louvre
might be a cour non-pareille. The south wing was, however,
only begun when his tragic death occurred, and the present
inconsequent and huge fabric is the work of a whole tribe
of architects, whose intermittent activities extended over the
reigns of nine French sovereigns.

Lescot and Goujon were also associated in the construc-
tion of the most beautiful Renaissance fountain in Paris,
the Fontaine des Innocents, which formerly stood against
the old church of the Innocents at the corner of the Rue
aux Fers. Pajou added a fourth side in 1786, when the
fountain was removed to the Square des Innocents. It
was while working on one of the figures of this fountain
that Jean Goujon is said to have been shot as a Huguenot
during the massacre of St. Bartholomew.

Europe was now in travail of a new era, and unhappy
France reeled under the tempest of the Reformation. A
daring spirit of enquiry and of revolt challenged every
principle on which the social fabric had been based, and
the only refuge in the coming storm in France was the
Monarchy. Never had its power been more absolute. The

RISE OF THE GUISES 165

king's will was law — a harbour of safety, indeed, if he were
strong and wise and virtuous : a veritable quicksand, if feeble
and vicious. And to pilot the state of France in these stormy
times, Henry II. left a sickly progeny of four princes, miser-
able puppets, whose favours were disputed for thirty years
by ambitious and fanatical nobles, queens and courtesans.

Francis II., a poor creature of sixteen years, the slave of
his wife Marie Stuart and of the Guises, was called king of
France for seventeen months. He it was who sat daily by
Mary in the royal garden, on the terrace at Amboise over-
looking the Loire, and, surrounded by his brothers and the
ladies or the court, gazed at the revolting and merciless
executions of the Protestant conspirators,1 who, under the
Prince of Conde, had plotted to destroy the Guises and to
free the king from their influence. It was the first act in a
horrible drama, a dread pursuivant of the civil and religious
wars in France. The stake was a high one, for the victory
of the reformers would sound the death-knell of the Catholic
cause in Europe. There is little reason to doubt that the
queen-mother, Catherine de' Medici, who now emerges
into prominence, was genuinely sincere in her disapproval of
the horrors of Amboise, and in her efforts to bring milder
counsels to bear in dealing with the Huguenots ; but the
fierce passions roused by civil and religious hatred were
uncontrollable. When the Huguenot noble, Villemongis,
was led to the scaffold at Amboise, he dipped his hands
in the blood of his slaughtered comrades, and, lifting them
to heaven, cried : " Lord, behold the blood of Thy children ;
Thou wilt avenge them." A savage lust for blood among
the Christian sectaries on either side, drawing its stimulus
from the records of the ferocity of semi-barbarian Jewish
tribes, smothered the gentle voice of Jesus, and during
thirty years was never slaked. Treachery and assassination
were the interludes of plots and battles. In 1563 the
Duke of Guise was shot by a fanatical Huguenot

1 One thousand two hundred are said to have suffered death during
the month of vengeance.

i66

PARIS AND ITS STORY

with a pistol loaded with poisoned balls. In 1569,
when the Protestant leader, Admiral Coligny, was sur-
prised and attacked by the forces of the Duke of
Anjou, Prince Conde, although wounded in the arm,
hastened to his succour. As the prince passed on, his
leg was broken by a kick from a vicious horse. Still
charging forward, he cried : " Remember how a Louis of
Bourbon goes to battle for Christ and Fatherland ! " His
horse was killed, himself captured ; as he was handing
over his sword to his captors, the Baron de Montesquieu,
" brave et vaillant gentilhomme" says Bran tome, arrived on
the scene, and, on learning what was passing, exclaimed,
" Mort Dieu I kill him ! kill him ! " and blew out Conde's
brains with a pistol. The body of the heroic Bourbon was
then tied on an ass, and a mocking epitaph set upon it : —

" L'an mil cinq soixante neuf,
Entre Jarnac et Chateau neuf;
Fut porte mort sur une anesse,
Cil qui voulait oter la messe."

The defeated Protestants were, however, soon roused to
enthusiasm by the arrival of Jeanne of Navarre at their
camp, leading her son Henry by one hand and the eldest
son of Conde by the other. " Here," cried the widowed
queen, " are two orphans I confide to you ; two leaders that
God has given you." One of these orphans was to become
Henry IV. of France.

The treaty of St. Germain, which has so often been
charged on Catherine as an act of perfidy, was rather an
imperative necessity, if respite were to be had from the
misery into which the land had fallen. Its conditions were
honourably carried out, and Catholic excesses were impar-
tially and severely repressed. Charles IX., who was
now twenty years of age, began to assert his inde-
pendence of the queen-mother and of the Guises,1 and

1 Henry of Guise had succeeded to the dukedom after his father's
assassination.

HUGUENOT AND CATHOLIC 167

his first movement was in the direction of conciliation.
The young king offered the hand of his sister, Princess
Marguerite, to Henry of Navarre, and received Coligny
and Jeanne of Navarre with much honour at court. Pressure
was brought to bear upon him, but, pope or no pope, the
king said he was determined to conclude the marriage.
The Catholic party, and especially Paris, were furious.
The capital, with the provost, the Parlement, the univer-
sity, the prelates, the religious orders, had always been
hostile to the Huguenots. t The people could with difficulty
be restrained at times from assuming the office of execu-
tioners as Protestants were led to the stake. Any
one who did not uncover as he passed the image of
the Virgin at the street corners, or who omitted to
bend the knee as the Host was carried by, was attacked
as a Lutheran. When the heralds published the peace
with the Huguenots at the crossways of Paris, filth and
mud were thrown at them, and they went in danger of
their lives : now Coligny and his Huguenots were holding
their heads high in Paris, proud and insolent, and the heretic
prince of Navarre was to wed the king's sister.

Jeanne of Navarre died soon after her arrival at court,1
but the alliance was hurried on. The betrothal took
place in the Louvre, and, on Sunday, 17th August
1572, a high dais was erected outside Notre Dame for
the celebration of the marriage. When the ceremony
had been performed by the Cardinal de Bourbon, Henry
conducted his bride to the choir of the cathedral, and
went walking in the bishop's garden while mass was
sung. The office ended, he returned and led his wife
to the bishop's palace to dinner, and a magnificent state
supper at the Louvre concluded this momentous day.
Three days of balls, masquerades and tourneys followed,
amid the murmuring of a sullen populace. These were

1 Suspicions of poison were entertained by the Huguenots. Jeanne, in
a letter to the Marquis de Beauvais, complained that holes were made in
her rooms that she might be spied upon.

168 PARIS AND ITS STORY

the noces vermeilles — the red nuptials — of Marguerite of
France and Henry of Navarre.

Meanwhile Catherine and Coligny had differed on
a matter of foreign policy, and the king, bent on
freeing himself from his mother's yoke, openly favoured
the Huguenot leader. Catherine, terrified at the result
of her own work, determined to regain her ascendency,
and she conspired with her third son, the Prince of
Anjou (later Henry III.), to destroy and have done
with the Protestants. Coligny had often been warned
of the danger he would run in Paris, but the stout
old soldier knew no fear, and came to take part in the
festivities of the wedding. The sounds of revelry had
barely died away when Coligny, who was returning from
the Louvre to his hotel, walking slowly and reading a peti-
tion, was fired at from a window as he passed the cloister of
St. Germain l'Auxerrois, and wounded in the arm. He
stopped and noted the house whence the shot came : it was
the house of the preceptor of the Duke of Guise. The
king was playing at tennis when the news came to him : he
flung down his racquet, exclaiming, "What ! shall I never be
in peace ? must I suffer new trouble every day ? " and went
moody and pensive to his chamber. In a few moments Prince
Conde and Henry of Navarre burst in, uttering indignant
protests, and begged permission to leave Paris. Charles
assured them he would do justice, and that they might safely
remain. In the afternoon the king, his mother and the
princes, went to visit the admiral. The king asked to be
left alone in the wounded man's chamber, remained a long
time with him, and protested that though the wound was his
friend's, the grief was his own, and he swore to avenge him.
Coligny once again was warned by his friends to
beware of the court, but he refused to distrust the king.
Many and conflicting are the reports of what followed.
We shall not be accused of any Protestant bias if we base
our story mainly on that of the two learned Benedictines ■
1 Felibien and Lobineau, 1725.

Portrait of Elizabeth of Austria, Wife of Charles IX.
Francois Clouet.

HUGUENOT AND CATHOLIC 169

who are responsible for five solid tomes of the Histoire de la
Ville de Paris. On the morrow of the attempt on Coligny's
life, the queen-mother invited Charles and his brother of
Anjou to walk, after dinner, in the garden of her new
palace in the Tuileries : they were joined by the chief
Catholic leaders, and a grand council was held. The queen
dwelt on the perilous situation of the monarchy and
the Catholic cause, and urged that now was the time to act :
Coligny lay wounded ; Navarre and Conde were in their
power at the Louvre ; for ten Huguenots in Paris the
Catholics could oppose a thousand armed men ; rid France
of the Huguenot chiefs and a formidable evil were averted.
Her course was approved, but the leaders shrank from
including the two princes of Navarre and Conde : they
were to be given their choice — recantation or death. By
order of the king 12,000 arquebusiers were placed along
the river and the streets, and arms were carried into the
Louvre. The admiral's friends, alarmed at the sinister
preparations, protested to Charles but were reassured and
told to take Cosseins and fifty arquebusiers to guard his
house. The provost of Paris was then summoned by the
Duke of Guise and ordered to arm and organise the citizens
and proceed to the Hotel de Ville at midnight. The king,
Guise said, would not lose so fair an opportunity of extermin-
ating the Huguenots. The Catholic citizens were to tie a
piece of white linen on their left arm and place a white cross
in their caps that they might be recognised by their friends.
At midnight the windows of their houses were to be illumin-
ated by torches, and at the first sound of the great bell at the
Palais de Justice the bloody work was to begin. Midnight
drew near. Catherine was not sure of the king, and
repaired to his chamber with Anjou and her councillors
to fix his wavering purpose ; she heaped bitter reproaches
upon him, worked on his fears with stories of a vast
Huguenot conspiracy and hinted that cowardice prevented
him from seizing the fairest opportunity that God had ever
offered, to free himself from his enemies. She repeated an

i7o PARIS AND ITS STORY

Italian prelate's vicious epigram : " Che pieta lor ser crudel,
che crudelta, lor ser pietosa" l and concluded by threatening to
leave the court with the Duke of Anjou rather than witness
the destruction of the Catholic cause. Charles, who had
listened sullenly, was stung by the taunt of cowardice and
broke into a delirium of passion ; he called for the death
of every Huguenot in France, that none might be left to
reproach him afterwards.

Catherine gave him no time for farther vacillation.
The great bell of St. Germain l'Auxerrois was rung
and at two in the morning of Sunday, St. Bartholomew's
Day, 24th August 1572, the Duke of Guise and his
followers issued forth to do their Sabbath morning's
work. Cosseins saw his leader coming and knew wha
was expected of him. Coligny's door was forced, his
servants were poignarded, and Besme, a German in the
service of Guise, followed by others, burst into the admiral's
room. The old man stood erect in his robe de chambre^
facing his murderers. u Art thou the admiral ? " demanded
Besme. " I am he," answered Coligny with unfaltering
voice and, gazing steadily at the naked sword pointed at
his breast, added, " Young man, thou shouldst show more
respect to my white hairs ; yet canst thou shorten but
little my brief life." For answer he was pierced by Besme' s
sword and stabbed to death by his companions. Guise
stood waiting in the street below and the body was flung
down to him from the window. He wiped the blood from the
old man's face, looked at it, and said, " It is he!" Spurning
the body with his foot he cried, " Courage, soldiers ! we
have begun well ; now for the others, the king com-
mands it." Meanwhile the bell of the Palais de Justice,
answering that of St. Germain, was booming forth its awful
summons, and the citizens hastened to perform their part.
Some passing the body of Coligny cut off" the head and
took it to the king and queen, others mutilated the trunk,

1 "That to show pity was to be cruel to them : to be cruel to them
was to show pity."

THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW 171

which, after being dragged about the streets for three days,
was hanged by the feet on the gibbet at Montfaucon, where
Charles and Catherine are said to have come to gaze on it.

All the Huguenot nobles dwelling near the admiral were
pitilessly murdered, and a similar carnage took place at the
Louvre. Marguerite, the young bride of Navarre, in her
Memoirs, tells of the horrors of that morning, how, when
half-asleep, a wounded Huguenot nobleman rushed into her
chamber, pursued by four archers, and flung himself on
her bed imploring protection. A captain of the guard
entered, from whom she gained his life. She entreated
the captain to lead her to her sister's room, and as she
fled thither, more dead than alive, another fugitive
was hewn down by a hallebardier only three paces
from her ; she fell fainting in the captain's arms.
Meanwhile Charles, the queen-mother, and Henry of
Anjou, after the violent scene in the king's chamber, had
lain down for two hours' rest and then went to a window
which overlooked the basse-cour of the Louvre, to see the
"beginning of the executions." If we may believe
Henry's story, they had not been there long before
the sound of a pistol shot filled them with dread and
remorse, and a messenger was sent to bid Guise to spare
the admiral and to stay the whole undertaking ; but
the nobleman who had been sent returned saying that
Guise had told him it was too late : the admiral was
dead, and the executions had begun all over the city.
A dozen Protestant nobles of the suites of Conde and
Navarre, who had taken refuge in the Louvre, were seized ;
one was even dragged from a sick-bed : all were taken
to the courtyard and hewn in pieces by the Swiss guards
under the eyes of Charles, who cried : " Let none escape."
Meantime the Catholic leaders had been scouring the streets
on horseback, shouting to the people that a Huguenot
conspiracy to murder the king had been discovered, and
that it was the king's wish that all the Huguenots should be
destroyed.

1 72 PARIS AND ITS STORY

A list of the Huguenots in Paris had been prepared and
all their houses marked. None was spared. Old and
young, women and children, were pitilessly butchered.
All that awful Sunday the orgy of slaughter and pillage
went on ; every gate of the city had been closed and the
keys brought to the king. Night fell and the carnage was
not stayed. Two days yet and two nights the city was a
prey to the ministers of death, and some Catholics, de-
nounced by personal enemies, were involved in the massacre.
The resplendent August sun, the fair sky and serene
atmosphere were held to be a divine augury, and a white-
thorn in the cemetery of the Innocents blooming out of
season was hailed as a miracle and a visible token from God
that the Catholic religion was to blossom again by the
destruction of the Huguenots. A famous professor at the
university was flung out of window by the scholars, his
body insulted and dragged in the mud. The murders did
not wholly cease until 1 7th September. Various were the
estimates of the slain — 20,000, 5,000, 2,000. A goldsmith
named Cruce went about displaying his robust arm and
boasting that he had accounted for 400 Huguenots. The
streets, the front of the Louvre, the public places wen
blocked by dead bodies ; tumbrils * were hired to thro^
them into the Seine, which literally for days ran red with blood.

The princes of Navarre and Conde saw the privacy of
their chambers violated by a posse of archers on St.
Bartholomew's morning ; they were forced to dress and
were haled before the king, who, with a fierce look and
glaring eyes, swore at them, reproached them for waging
war upon him, and ordered them to change their religion.
On their refusal he grew furious with rage, and by dint oi
threats wrung from them a promise to go to mass.

Charles is said to have stood at a window in the Petite

1 The municipality gave presents of money to the archers who had
taken part in the massacre, to the watermen who prevented the
Huguenots from crossing the Seine, and to grave-diggers for having
buried in eight days about 1,100 bodies.

The Louvre— Galerie d'Apollon.

THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW 173

Galerie of the Louvre and to have fired across the river
with a long arquebus on some Huguenots who, being lodged
on the southern side, had escaped massacre, and were riding
up to learn what was passing. The statement is much
canvassed by authorities. It is at least permissible to doubt
the assertion, since the first floor x of the Petite Galerie, where
the king is traditionally believed to have placed himself, was
not in existence before the time of Henry IV. If the
ground floor be meant, a further difficulty arises from the
fact that the southern end was not furnished with a window
in Charles IX. 's time.

On the 26th of August the king boldly avowed
responsibility before the Parlement for measures which he
alleged had been necessary to suppress a Huguenot
insurrection aiming at the assassination of himself and the
royal family and the destruction of the Catholic religion in
France. The ears of the Catholic princes of Europe and of
the pope were abused by this specious lie ; they believed that
the Catholic cause had been saved from ruin ; the so-called
victory was hailed with transports of joy, and a medal was
struck in Rome to celebrate the defeat of the Huguenots.2

Similar horrors were enacted in the chief provincial
towns. Some few governors, to their honour, declined to
carry out the orders of the court, and the public executioner
at Troyes refused to take part in the butchery, protesting
that his office was not to kill untried persons. At
Angers some of the rich Huguenots were imprisoned and
their property confiscated by order of Henry of Anjou.
" Monseigneur, we can make more than 150,000 francs
out of them," wrote his agent.

Such was the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The death-
roll of the victims is known to the Recording Angel alone.
It was a tremendous folly no less than an indelible crime,
for it steeled the heart of every Protestant to avenge his
slaughtered brethren.

1 Now known as the Galerie d'Apollon.

2 Ugonottorum strages. Inscription on the obverse of the medal.

174

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Many of the Huguenot leaders escaped from Paris while
the soldiers sent to despatch them were pillaging, and the
flames of civil strife burst forth fiercer than ever. The
court had prepared for massacre, not for war ; and whil<
the king was receiving the felicitations of the courts of
Spain and Rome, he was forced by the Peace of La Rochelle

PETITE GALERIE OF THE LOUVRE.

to concede liberty of conscience to the Protestants and to
restore their sequestered estates and offices. After two
years of agony of mind and remorse, Charles IX. lay dying
of consumption, abandoned by all save his faithful Huguenot
nurse. The blood flowing from his nostrils seemed a token
of God's wrath ; and moaning " Ah ! ma mie, what blood-
shed ! what murders ! I am lost ! I am lost ! " the poor
crowned wretch passed to his account. He had not yet
reached his twenty-fourth year.

CHAPTER XIII

HENRY III. THE LEAGUE SIEGE OF PARIS BY HENRY IV.

HIS CONVERSION, REIGN AND ASSASSINATION

When the third of Catherine's sons, having resigned the
sovereignty of Poland, was being consecrated at Rheims, the
crown is said to have twice slipped from his head, the
insentient diadem itself shrinking in horror from the brow
of a prince destined to pollute it with deeper shame.
Treacherous and bloody, Henry mingled grovelling piety
with debauchery, and made of the court a veritable Alsatia,
where paid assassins who stabbed from behind and mignons
who struck to the face, were part of the train of every
prince. The king's mignonsy with their insolent bearing,
their extravagant and effeminate dress, their hair powdered
and curled, their neck ruffles so broad that their heads
resembled the head of John the Baptist on a charger, —
gambling, blaspheming swashbucklers — were hateful alike to
Huguenot and Catholic.

Less than four years after St. Bartholomew the Peace of
1576 gave the Huguenots all they had ever demanded or
hoped for. In 1582 died the Duke of Alencon, Catherine's
last surviving son and heir to the throne ; Henry gave
no hope of posterity and the Catholic party were confronted
by the possibility of the sceptre of St. Louis descending to
a relapsed heretic. A tremendous wave of feeling ran
through France, and a Holy League was formed to meet the
danger, with the Duke of Guise as leader. The king tried
in vain to win some of the Huguenot and League partisans
by the solemn institution of the Order of the Holy
Ghost,1 in the church of the Augustinians, to commemorate
his elevation to the thrones of Poland and France on the

1 Examples of magnificent costumes of the order may be seen in the
Cluny Museum.

175

176 PARIS AND ITS STORY

day of Pentecost. The people were equally recalcitrant.
When Henry entered Paris after the campaign of 1587, they
shouted for their idol, the Balafre,1 crying, " Saul has slain his
thousands but David his tens of thousands." The king in
his jealousy and disgust forbade Guise to enter Paris ;
Guise coolly ignored the command, and a few months later
arrived at the head of a formidable train of nobles, amid the
joyous acclamation of the people, who greeted him with
chants of " Hosannah^ Filio David ! " Angry scenes followed.
The duke sternly called his master to duty, and warned him to
take vigorous measures against the Huguenots or lose his
crown ; the king, pale with anger, dismissed him and pre-
pared to strike.

On the night of the 1 ith May a force of Royal Guards
and 4000 Swiss mercenaries entered Paris, but the Parisians,
with that genius for insurrection which has always char-
acterised them, were equal to the occasion. The
sixteen sections of the city met ; in the morning the
people were under arms ; and barricades and chains blocked
the streets. The St. Antoine section, ever to the front,
stood up to the king's Guards and to the Swiss advancing to
occupy their quarter, defeated them, and with exultant cries
rushed to threaten the Louvre itself. Henry was forced to
send his mother to treat with the duke ; she returned with
terms that meant a virtual abdication. Henry took horse
and fled, vowing he would come back only through a breach
in the walls. But Guise was supreme in Paris, and the pitiful
monarch was soon forced to yield ; he signed the terms of
his own humiliation, and went to Blois to meet Guise and the
States-General with bitterness in his heart, brooding over his'
revenge. Visitors to Blois will recall the scene of the tragic
end of Guise, the incidents of which the official guardians of
the chateau are wont to recite with dramatic gestun
Fearless and impatient of warnings, the great captain fell
into the trap prepared for him ; he was done to death in th<

1 The Duke of Guise was so called from his face being scarred by-
wound received at the battle of Dolmans.

Catherine de' Medici.
French School, i6th Century.

THE LEAGUE 177

king's chamber, like a lion caught in the toils. Henry,
who had heard mass and prayed that God would be gracious
to him and permit the success of his enterprise, hastened to
his mother, now aged and dying. " Madame," said he, "I
have killed the king of Paris and am become once more
king of France." The Cardinal of Lorraine, separated from
the king's chamber only by a partition, paled as he heard his
nephew's struggles. iC Yes," said his warder, " the king has
some accounts to settle with you." Next morning the old
cardinal was led out and hacked to pieces. The two bodies
were burnt and the ashes scattered to the winds to prevent their
being worshipped as relics. It was Christmas Eve of 1588.
The stupid crime brought its inevitable consequences —

" Revenge and hate bring forth their kind,
Like the foul cubs their parents are."

Paris and the Leaguers were stung to fury ; the
Sorbonne declared the king deposed ; the pope banned
him and a popular preacher called for another blood-
letting. Henry, in a final act of shame and despair, flung
himself into the king of Navarre's arms, and on the 30th
July 1589, the two Henrys encamped at St. Cloud and
threatened Paris with an army of 40,000 men. On the
morrow Jacques Clement, a young Dominican friar, after
preparing himself by fasting, prayer and holy com-
munion, left Paris with a forged letter for the king,
reached the camp and asked for a private interview. While
Henry was reading the letter the friar snatched a dagger from
his sleeve and mortally stabbed him. He lingered until 2nd
August, and after pronouncing Henry of Navarre his lawful
successor and bidding his Council swear allegiance to the new
dynasty, the last of the thirteen Valois kings passed to his
doom. Catherine de' Medici had already preceded him,

1 The king had premonitions of a violent end. One day, after keeping
Easter at Negeon with great devotion, he suddenly returned to the Louvre
and ordered all the lions, bears, bulls, and other wild animals he
kept there for baiting by dogs, to be shot. He had dreamt that he was
set upon and eaten by wild beasts.

i78 PARIS AND ITS STORY

burdened with the anathemas of the Cardinal of Bourbon.
The people of Paris swore that if her body were brought to
St. Denis they would fling it to the shambles or into the
Seine, and a famous theologian, preaching at St. Bartholo-
mew's church, declared to the faithful that he knew not if it
were right to pray God for her soul, but that if they cared
to give her in charity a Pater or an Ave they might do so
for what it was worth. This was the reward of her thirty
years of devoted toil, of vigils and of plots to further
the Catholic cause. Not until a quarter of a century
had passed were her ashes laid beside those of her
husband in the rich Renaissance tomb, which still
exists, in the royal church of St. Denis. When the
news of the king's death reached Paris, the Duchess of
Montpensier, whom he had threatened to burn alive when he
entered, leapt into her carriage and drove through the streets
crying, " Good news, friends ! Good news ! The tyrant is
dead ! " Jacques Clement, who had been cut to pieces by
the king's Guards, was worshipped as a martyr, and his
mother rewarded for having given birth to the saviour of
France.

Henry of Navarre, unable to carry on the siege with a
divided army, directed his course for Normandy. The
exultant Parisians proclaimed the Cardinal of Bourbon king,
under the title of Charles X., and the Duke of Mayenne,
with a large army, marched forth to give battle to Henry.
So confident were the Leaguers of victory, that their leaders
hired windows along the Rue St. Antoine, to witness the
return of the duke bringing the " Bearnais" ■ dead or a
prisoner. Henry did indeed return, but it was after a
victorious campaign. He captured the Faubourg St.
Jacques, and fell upon the abbey of St. Germain des Pres
while the astonished monks were preparing to sing mass.
Henry seized the monastery, climbed the steeple of
the church and gazed on Paris. He refreshed his troops,

1 So called derisively, because he was born and brought up in the poor
province of Beam, in the Pyrenees.

St. Gervais.

THE SIEGE OF PARIS 179

suffered them to pillage the city south of the Seine,
and turned to the west to fix his capital at Tours. In
1590 he won at Ivry on the Eure, about fifty miles
south of Rouen, the brilliant victory over the armies
of the League and of Spain which Macaulay has popu-
larised in a stirring poem. The village ever since has
been known as Ivry-la-Bataille.

The road to Paris was now open, and the city endured
another and most terrible siege. The Leaguers fought and
suffered with the utmost constancy. Reliquaries were melted
down for money, church bells for cannon. The clergy
and religious orders were caught by the military enthusiasm.
The bishop of Senlis and the prior of the Carthusians,
two valiant Maccabees, were seen, crucifix in one hand, and a
pike in the other, leading a procession of armed priests,
monks and scholars through the streets. Friars from
the mendicant orders were among them, their habits tucked
up, hoods thrown back, casques on their heads and cuirasses
on their breasts. All marched sword by side, dagger in
girdle, musket on shoulder, the strangest army of the
church militant ever seen. As they passed the Pont Notre
Dame the papal legate was crossing in his carriage, and was
asked to stop and give his blessing. After this benediction
a salvo of musketry was called for, and some of the host of
the Lord, forgetting that their muskets were loaded with ball,
killed a papal officer and wounded a servant of the ambas-
sador of Spain.

Four months the Parisians endured starvation and
all the attendant horrors of a siege, the incidents of which,
as described by contemporaries, are so ghastly that the
pen recoils from transcribing them. At length, when
they were at the last extremity, the Duke of Parma
arrived with a Spanish army, forced Henry to raise the
siege, and revictualled the city. After war, anarchy.
In November 1591 it was discovered that secret letters
were passing between Brizard, an officer in the service
of the Duke of Mayenne in Paris, and a royalist at

180 PARIS AND ITS STORY

St. Denis. The sections demanded Brizard's instant
execution, and on his discharge by the Parlement the
curi of St. Jacques fulminated against that body and
declared that cold steel must be tried (faut jouer des
couteaux). A secret revolutionary committee of ten was
appointed, and a papier rouge or list of suspects in
all the districts of Paris was drawn up under three
categories : P. (pendus), those to be hung ; D. (dagues\
those to be poignarded ; C. (ckasses), those to be expelled.
On the night of the 15th November a meeting was held
at the house of the cure of St. Jacques, and in the morning
the president of the Parlement, Bri-sson, was seized and
dragged to the Petit Chatelet, where a revolutionary
tribunal, in black cloaks, on which were sewn large red
crosses, condemned him to death. Meanwhile two coun-
cillors of the Parlement, Larcher and Tardif, had been
seized, the latter by the cure of St. Cosme, and haled
to the Chatelet. All three were dragged to a room,
and the executioner was forced to hang them from a
beam. The bodies were then stripped, an inscription
was hung about their necks, and they were suspended
from the gallows in the Place de Greve. The sections
believed that Paris would rise : they only shocked the
more orderly citizens. The Duke of Mayenne, who was
at Lyons, on the receipt of the news hastened to Paris,
temporised a while and, when sure of support, seized
four of the most dangerous leaders of the sections and
hanged them without trial in the Salle basse of the Louvre.
All save the more violent partisans were now weary of
the strife. The Leaguers themselves were divided. The
sections aimed at a theocratic democracy ; another party
favoured the Duke of Mayenne; a third, the Duke of
Guise; a fourth, the Infanta of Spain. It was decidec
to convoke the States-General at Paris. They met at
the Louvre in 1593, and a conference was arranged witl
Henry's supporters at Suresnes. Crowds flocked there,
crying, " Peace, peace ; blessed be they who bring it

CONVERSION OF HENRY IV. 181

cursed they who prevent it." Henry knew the supreme
moment was come. France was still profoundly Catholic ;
he must choose between his religion and France. He
chose to heal his country's wounds and perhaps to
save her very existence. Learned theologians were
deputed to confer with him at Paris, whom he astonished
and confounded by his knowledge of Scripture ; they
declared that they had never met a heretic better able to
defend his cause. But on 23rd July 1573, he professed
himself convinced, and the same evening wrote to his
mistress, Gabrielle d'Estrees, that he had spoken with the
bishops, and that a hundred anxieties were making St. Denis
hateful to him. u On Sunday," he adds, " I am to take the
perilous leap. Bonjour, my heart ; come to me early to-
morrow. It seems a year since I saw you. A million times
I kiss the fair hands of my angel and the mouth of my dear
mistress."

On Sunday, under the great portal of St. Denis, the
archbishop of Bourges sat enthroned in a chair covered with
white damask and embroidered with the arms of France and
of Navarre. He was attended by many prelates and the
prior and monks of St. Denis, and the cross and the book of
the Gospels were held before him. Henry drew nigh.
<c Who are you ? " demanded the archbishop. " I am the
king." "What do you ask? " "I wish to be received in
the bosom of the Catholic, Apostolic and Roman Church."
" Is it your will ? " " Yes, I will and desire it." Henry
then knelt and made profession of his faith, kissed the
prelate's ring, received his blessing and was led to the
choir, where he knelt before the high altar and repeated
his profession of faith on the holy Gospels amid cries
of "Vive le roil"

The clerical extremists in Paris anathematised all con-
cerned. Violent cures again donned their armour, children
were baptised and mass was sung by cuirassed priests. The
cure of St. Cosme seized a partisan, and with other fanatics
of the League hastened to the Latin Quarter to raise the

l82

PARIS AND ITS STORY

university. But the people were heartsick of the whole
business ; and when Henry entered Paris after his coronation
at Chartres, resplendent in velvet robes embroidered with
gold and seated on his dapple grey charger, his famous
helmet with its white plumes ever in his hand saluting the
ladies at the windows, he was hailed with shouts of joy.
Shops were reopened, the artisan took up his tools and the
merchant went to his counter with a sigh of relief. A
general amnesty was proclaimed, and the Spanish garrison
were allowed to depart with their arms. As they filed out
of the Porte St. Denis in heavy rain, three thousand strong,
the king was sitting at a window above the gates. " Re-
member me to your master," he cried, " but do not
return.' ' On the morrow the provost and sheriffs and
chief citizens came to the Louvre bearing presents of
sweetmeats, sugar-plums and malmsey wine. "Yesterday
I received your hearts, to-day I receive your sweets,"
the king remarked ; all were charmed by his wit, his
forbearance and generosity. The stubborn university was
last to give way, but when the doctors of theology
learnt that Henry had touched for the king's evil and
that many had been cured, they too were convinced.
Paris, "well worth a mass," was wooed and won. The
memorable Edict of Nantes established liberty of worship
and political equality for the Protestants. The war
with Spain was brought to a successful issue, and Henry,
with his minister the Duke of Sully, probably the greatest
financial genius France has ever known, by wise and firm
statesmanship lifted the country from bankruptcy to pros-
perity and contentment.

Henry, like one of his predecessors, had of bastards et
bastardes une moult belle compagnie, but as yet no legitimate
heir. A divorce from Marguerite of Valois and a politic
marriage with the pope's niece, Marie de' Medici,1 gave him

1 Her majesty, we learn from the Memoires of L'Estoile, was of a rich
figure, stout, fine eyes and complexion. She used no paint, powder or
other vilanie.

184

PARIS AND ITS STORY

a magnificent dowry, an additional bond to the papacy, and
several children.

Henri Quatre, hero of Voltaire's famous epic, is the
most popular and romantic figure in the gallery of French
kings. His statue on the Pont Neuf was spared for a whilt
by the revolutionists, who made every passer-by in a
carriage alight and bow to it. Born among the mountains,
Henry was patient of fatigue and hardships. In good or
evil fortune his gaiety of heart never failed him. Brave and
generous, courteous and witty, he endeared himself to all his
subjects, save a few fanatics, and won a desperate cause b]
sheer personal magic and capacity. Like all his race, Henn
was susceptible to the charms of the daughters of Eve,
but, unlike his descendants, he never sacrificed France t<
their tears and wiles. When the question of the successioi
was urgent he thought of marrying Gabrielle d'Estrees,
whom he had created Duchess of Beaufort. But Sulb
opposed the union, and the impatient Gabrielle sought hei
royal lover, and used all her powers of fascination t<
compass the dismissal of the great minister. Henry, how-
ever, stood firm, and Gabrielle burst into passionate
reproaches. It was of no avail. " Let me tell you,'
answered Henry, calmly, " if I must choose between yoi
and the duke, I would sooner part with ten mistresses such
as you than one faithful servant such as he."

In 1610 the king was making great preparations for
war with Austria, and, on the 14th May, desiring to
consult Sully, who was unwell in his rooms at the Arsenal,
he determined to spare him the fatigue of travelling to th<
Louvre, and to drive to the Arsenal.

With much foreboding the king had agreed to the corona-
tion of Marie de' Medici, which had been celebrated at St.
Denis with great pomp. The ceremony was attended by two
sinister incidents. The Gospel for the day, taken from Mark
x., included the answer of Jesus to the Pharisees who tempted
Him by asking — " Is it lawful for a man to put away his
wife ? " — the Gospel was hurriedly changed. And when

ASSASSINATION OF HENRY IV. 185

the usual largesse of gold and silver pieces was thrown
to the crowd not a voice cried, " Vive le roi" or " Vive
la reined That night the king tossed restless on his
bed, pursued by evil dreams. On the morrow his coun-
sellors begged him to defer his journey, but nineteen
plots to assassinate him had already failed : he gently
put aside their warnings, and repeated his favourite maxim
that fear had no place in a generous heart. It was a
warm day, and the king entered his open carriage,
attended by the Dukes of Epernon and Montbazon and
&vz other courtiers ; a number of valets de pied followed
him. In the narrow Rue de la Ferronnerie the carriage
was stopped by a block in the traffic, and the servants
were sent round by the cemetery of the Innocents.
While the king was listening to the reading of a letter
by the Duke of Epernon, one Francis Ravaillac, who
had been watching his opportunity for twelve months,
placed his foot on a wheel of the coach, leaned forward,
and plunged a knife into the king's breast. Before he
could be seized he pulled out the fatal steel and doubled
his thrust, piercing him to the heart. " Je suis blesse"
cried Henry, and never spoke again. The widened Rue
de la Ferronnerie still exists ; the tragedy took place
opposite the present no. 3. The regicide was seized,
and all the tortures that the most refined cruelty could
invent were inflicted upon him. He was dragged to
the Place de Greve, his right hand cut off and, with
the fatal knife, flung into the flames ; the flesh was
torn from his arms, breast and legs ; melted lead and
boiling oil were poured into the wounds. Horses were
then tied to each of his four limbs, and were lashed for
an hour, when at length the body was torn to pieces and
burnt to ashes. Some writers have inculpated the Jesuits
for the murder, but it may more reasonably be attributed to
the fury of a crazy fanatic. Certain it is that Henry's heart
was given to the Jesuits for the church of their college of
la Fleche, which was founded by him.

i86

PARIS AND ITS STORY

The first Bourbon king has left his impress on the
architecture of Paris. Small progress had been made during
the reign of Henry II. 's three sons with their father's
plans for the rebuilding of the Louvre. The work had been
continued along the river front after Lescot's death in 1578
by Baptiste du Cercan, and Catherine de' Medici had
erected the gallery on the south, known as the Petit*
Galerie — a ground-floor building with a terrace on top,
intended for a meeting-place and promenade and not for
residence ; she had also begun the palace of the Tuileries
in 1564, but abandoned it on being warned by hei
astrologer, Ruggieri, that she should die under the ruins oi
a house near St. Germain.1 Henry, soon after he hac
entered Paris, elaborated a vast scheme for finishing th(
Tuileries, demolishing the churches of St. Thomas and St.
Nicholas, quadrupling the size of the old Louvre and
joining the two palaces by continuing the Grand*
Galerie, already begun by Catherine, to the west. Towards
the east the hotels d'Alencon, de Bourbon and the church
of St. Germain FAuxerrois were to be demolished, and
great open space was to be levelled between the new east fronl
of the Louvre and the Pont Neuf. At Henry's accessioi
Catherine's architects, Philibert de l'Orme and Jear
Bullant, had completed the superb domed central pavilion
of the Tuileries, with its two contiguous galleries, an<
begun the end pavilions. The gardens, with the famous
maze or dedalus and Palissy's beautiful grotto, had been
completed in 1476, and for some years were a favourite
promenade for Catherine and her court. Henry's plans
were so far carried out that on New Year's day, 1 608, he
could walk along the Grande Galerie to the Pavilion d(
Flore at the extreme west of the river front, and enter th<
south wing of the Tuileries which had been extended t(
meet it. The Pavilion de Flore thus became the angle of
junction between the two palaces. An upper floor was

1 The new palace was situated in the parish of St. Germain l'Auxerrois,
the parish church of the Louvre.

THE PARIS OF HENRY IV. 187

imposed on the Petite Galerie, and adorned with paint-
ings representing the kings of France. Henry intended the
ground floor of the Grande Galerie for the accommodation
of painters, sculptors, goldsmiths, tapestry weavers, smiths,
and other craftsmen. The quadrangle, however, remained
as the last Valois had left it — half Renaissance, half Gothic —
and the north-east and south-east towers of the original
chateau were still standing to be drawn by Sylvestre
towards the middle of the seventeenth century.

Domenico da Cortona's unfinished Hotel de Ville was
taken in hand after more than half-a-century and practically
completed.1 The larger, north portion of the Pont Neuf
was built, the two islets west of the Cite were incorporated
with the island to form the Place Dauphine and the ground
that now divides the two sections of the bridge — a new street,
the Rue Dauphine, being cut through the garden of the
Augustins and the ruins of the college of St. Denis. The
Place Royale (now des Vosges) was built, that charming
relic of seventeenth and eighteenth century fashionable Paris,
where Moliere's Precieuses lived.

How different is the present aspect of this once courtly
square ! Here noble gentlemen in dazzling armour jousted,
while, from the windows of each of the thirty-five pavilions,
gentle dames and demoiselles smiled gracious guerdon to
their cavaliers. Around the bronze statue of Louis XIII.,
proudly erect on the noble horse cast by Daniello da
Volterra, in the middle of the gardens, fine ladies were
carried in their sedan-chairs and angry gallants fought
out their quarrels. And now on the scene of these
brilliant revels, peaceful inhabitants of the east of Paris
sun themselves and children play. Bronze horse and
royal rider went to the melting pot of the Revolu-
tion to be forged into the cannon that defeated and
humbled the allied kings of Europe, and a feeble marble
equestrian statue, erected under the Restoration, occupies

1 The north tower was left only partially constructed, and was
finished by Louis XIII.

i88

PARIS AND ITS STORY

its place. Henry also partly rebuilt the Hotel Diei
created new streets, and widened others.1 New fountaii
and quays were built ; the Porte du Temple was re-
opened, and the Porte des Tournelles constructed. Un-
happily, some of the old wooden bridges remained, and or
Sunday, 22nd December 1596, the Pont aux Meunien
(Miller's Bridge), just below the Pont au Change, suddenb

" Vr/?

PLACE DES VOSGES.

collapsed, with all its shops and houses, and sixty persons
perished. They were not much regretted, for most of
them had enriched themselves by the plunder of Hugue-
nots, and during the troubles of the League. The bridge was
rebuilt of wood, at the cost of the captain of the corps of
^archers, and as the houses were painted each with the
figure of a bird? the new bridge was known as the Pont
aux Oiseaux (Bridge of Birds). It spanned the river from
the end of the Rue St. Denis and the arch of the Grand
Chatelet to the Tour de l'Horloge of the Palais de Justice.

1 By a curious coincidence the widening of the Rue de la Ferronnerie
had been ordered just before the king was assassinated.

Place des Vosges.

THE PARIS OF HENRY IV. 189

•
In 1 62 1, however, it and the Pont au Change were con-
sumed by fire in a few hours and, in 1639, the two wooden
bridges were replaced by a bridge of stone, the Pont
au Change, which stood until rebuilt in 1858.

It was in Henry's reign that the Penitents, a regularised
order of reformed Franciscan Tertiaries, were established at
Picpus, a small village south-east of the Porte St. Antoine, and
the friars became known to the Parisians as the Picpuses.
The buildings are now occupied bythe nuns of the Sacre Cceur,
whose church contains a much venerated statuette of the Vir-
gin, which, in Henry's reign, stood over the portal of the
Capucin convent in the Rue St. Honore. Readers of Les
Miserables will remember that it was over the high walls of
this convent that Jean Valjean escaped with Cosette from his
pursuers. At the end of the garden lie buried in the cemetery
of Picpus the victims of the Revolution who were guillotined
on the Place du Trone Renverse (now du Trone).

We are able to give the impression which the Paris of Henri
Quatre made on an English traveller, a friend of Ben Johnson
and author of Cory at' s Crudities, hastily gobbled up in jive months'1
Travell. The first objects that met Coryat's eye are charac-
teristic. As he travelled along the St. Denis road he passed
" seven x faire pillars of freestone at equal distances, each with
an image of St. Denis and his two companions, and a little
this side of Paris was the fairest gallows I ever saw, built on
Montfaucon, which consisted of fourteene fair pillars of free-
stone." He notes "the fourteene gates of Paris, the goodly
buildings, mostly of fair, white stone and " — a detail always
unpleasantly impressed on travellers — "the evil-smelling
streets, which are the dirtiest and the most stinking I ever
saw in any city in my life. Lutetia ! well dothe it brooke being
so called from the Latin word lutum, which signifieth dirt."
Coryat was impressed by the bridges — "the goodly bridge of
white freestone nearly finished (the Pont Neuf) ; a famous
bridge that far exceedeth this, havingone of the fairest streets in

1 They marked the seven resting-places of the saint as he journeyed
to St. Denis after his martyrdom.

190

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Paris called our Ladies street ; the bridge of Exchange where
the goldsmiths live ; St. Michael's bridge, and the bridge of
Birds." He admires the " Via Jacobea, full of bookesellers'

%M?W

OLD HOUSES NEAR PONT ST. MICHEL, SHOWING SPIRE OF THE STE. CHAPELLE.

faire shoppes, most plentifully furnished with bookes, and
the fair building, very spacious and broad, where the Judges
sit in the Palais de Justice, the roofs sumptuously gilt and em-
bossed, with an exceeding multitude of great, long bosses hang-
ing downward." Coryat next visited the fine quadrangle of the
Louvre, whose outside was exquisitely wrought with festoons,

THE PARIS OF HENRY IV. 191

and decked with many stately pillars and images. From Queen
Mary's bedroom he went to a room * " which excelleth not only
all that are now in the world but also all that were since the
creation thereof, even a gallery, a perfect description whereof
would require a large volume, with a roofe of most glittering
and admirable beauty. Yea, so unspeakably fair is it that a
man can hardly comprehend it in his mind that hath not seen
it with his bodily eyes." The Tuileries gardens were the
finest he ever beheld for length of delectable walks.

Next day Coryat saw the one thing above all he desired

to see, " that most rare ornament of learning Isaac

Casaubon," who told him to observe "a certain profane,

superstitious ceremony of the papists — a bedde carried after

a very ethnicall manner, or rather a canopy in the form of

a bedde, under which the Bishop of the city, with certain

priests, carry the Sacrament. The procession of Corpus

Christi," he adds, " though the papists esteemed it very holy,

was methinks very pitiful. The streets were sumptuously

adorned with paintings and rich cloth of arras, the costliest

they could provide, the shews of Our Lady street being

so hyperbolical in pomp that it exceedeth all the rest by

many degrees. Upon public tables in the streets they

exposed rich plate as ever I saw in my life, exceeding costly

goblets and what not tending to pomp ; and on the middest

of the tables stood a golden crucifix and divers other

gorgeous images. Following the clergy, in capes exceeding

rich, came many couples of little singing choristers, which,

pretty innocent punies, were so egregiously deformed that

moved great pity in any relenting spectator, being so clean

shaved round about their heads that a man could perceive

no more than the very rootes of their hair."

At the royal suburb Coryat saw "St. Denis, his head
enclosed in a wonderful, rich helmet, beset with exceeding
abundant pretious stones," but the skull itself he "beheld
not plainly, only the forepart through a pretty, crystall glass,
and by light of a wax candle."

1 The Grande Galerie.

CHAPTER XIV

PARIS UNDER RICHELIEU AND MAZARIN

Louis XIII. was nine years of age when he came to the
throne in 1610. For a time the regent, Marie de' Medici,
was content to suffer the great Sully to hold office, but soon
favouritism and the greed of princes, to the ill-hap of
France, drove him in the prime of life from Paris into the
retirement of his chateau of Villebon, and a feeble and
venal Florentine, Concini, took his place. The Prince of
Conde, now a Catholic, the Duke of Mayenne, and a
pack of nobles who professed solicitude for the wrongs
of the pauvre peuple, fell upon the royal treasury like
hounds on their quarry. The court, to meet their de-
mands, neglected to pay the poor annuitants of the Hotel
de Ville, and this was the only result to the pauvre peuple.
In 1 6 14, so critical was the financial situation, that the States-
General were called to meet in the Salle Bourbon,1 but to
little purpose. Recriminations were bandied between the
noblesse and the Tiers Etat. The insolence of the former
was intolerable. One member of the Tiers was thrashed by
a noble and could obtain no redress. The clergy refused
to bear any of the public burdens. The orator of the Tiers,
speaking on his knees according to usage, warned the
court that despair might make the people conscious that
a soldier was none other than a peasant bearing arms, and
that when the vine-dresser took up the arquebus he might
one day cease to be the anvil and become the hammer.
But there was no thought for the common weal ; each

1 In the Hotel de Bourbon, east of the old Louvre, sometimes known
as the Petit Bourbon.

192

RICHELIEU 193

order wrangled for its own privileges, and their meeting-
place was closed on the pretext that the hall was wanted for
a royal ballet. No protest was raised, and the States-General
never met again until the fateful meeting at Versailles, in
1789, when a similar pretext was tried, with very different
consequences. Among the clergy, however, sat a young
priest of twenty-nine years of age, chosen for their orator,
Armand Duplessis de Richelieu, who made rapid strides
to fame.

In 1 61 6 the nobles were once more in arms, and Conde
was again bought off. The helpless court was in pitiful
straits and the country drifting to civil war, when Richelieu,
who, meanwhile, had been made a royal councillor and
minister for foreign affairs, took the Conde business in
hand. He had the prince arrested in the Louvre itself
and flung into the Bastille ; the noble blackmailers were
declared guilty of treason, and three armies marched against
them. The triumph of the court seemed assured, when
Louis XIII., now sixteen years of age, suddenly freed
himself from tutelage, and with the help of the favourite
companion of his pastimes, Albert de Luynes, son of a
soldier of fortune, determined to rid himself of Concini.
The all-powerful Florentine, on 24th April 16 17, was
crossing the bridge that spanned the fosse of the Louvre
when the captain of the royal Guards, who was accompanied
by a score of gentlemen, touched him on the shoulder and
told him he was the king's prisoner. tl I, a prisoner ! "
exclaimed Concini, moving his hand towards his sword.
Before he could utter another word he fell dead, riddled
with pistol shots ; Louis appeared at a window, and all
the Louvre resounded with cries of " Vive le roil " Concini's
wife, to whom he owed his ascendency over the queen-
mother, was accused of sorcery, beheaded and burnt on
the Place de Greve ; Marie was packed off to Blois and
Richelieu exiled to his bishopric of Lucon. De Luynes,
enriched by the confiscated wealth of the Concini, now
became supreme, only to demonstrate a pitiful incapacity.

194 PARIS AND ITS STORY

The nobles had risen and were rallying round Marie ; the
Protestants were defying the state ; but Luynes was im-
potent, and soon went to a dishonoured grave, leaving
chaos behind him.

Richelieu's star was now in the ascendant. The king
drew near to his mother and both turned to the one
man who seemed able to knit together the distracted state.
A cardinal's hat was obtained for him from Rome, and
the illustrious churchman ruled France for eighteen years.
Everything went down before his commanding genius, his
iron will and his indefatigable industry. " I reflect long,"
said he, " before making a decision, but once my mind is
made up, I go straight to the goal. I mow down all before
me, and cover all with my scarlet robe." The Huguenots,
backed by the English, aimed at founding an independent
republic : Richelieu captured La Rochelle z and wiped them
out as a political party. The great nobles sought to divide
power with the crown : he demolished their fortresses,
made them bow their necks to the royal yoke or chopped off
their heads. They defied the king's edict against duelling :
the Count of Bouteville, the most notorious duellist of
his time, and the Count of Les Chapelles were sent to the
scaffold for having defiantly fought duels in the Place
Royale in open noonday, at which the Marquis of Buffy was
killed. The execution made a profound impression, for
the count was a Montmorency, and the Condes, the
Orleans, the Montmorencys and all the most powerful nobles
brought pressure to bear on the king and swore that the
sentence should never be carried out. But Richelieu was
firm as a tower. " It is an infamous thing," he told the
king, " to punish the weak alone ; they cast no baleful shade :
we must keep discipline by striking down the mighty."
Richelieu crushed the Parlement and revolutionised the pro-
vincial administrations. He maintained seven armies in th<
field, and two navies on the seas at one and the same time.

1 The church of Notre Dame des Victoires commemorates th<
victory.

PARIS UNDER RICHELIEU 195

He added four provinces to France — Alsace, Lorraine, Artois
and Rousillon, humiliated Austria and exalted his country
to the proud position of dominant factor in European
politics. He foiled plot after plot and crushed rebellion.
The queen-mother, Gaston Duke of Orleans her second
son and heir to the throne, the Marquis of Cinq-Mars the
king's own favourite — each tried a fall with the great minister,
but was thrown and punished with pitiless severity. Marie
herself was driven to exile — almost poverty — at Brussels,
and died a miserable death at Cologne. The despicable
Gaston, who twice betrayed his friends to save his own skin,
was watched, and when the queen, Anne of Austria, gave
birth to a son after twenty years of marriage, he was deprived
of his dignities and possessions and interned at Blois. The
Marquis of Cinq-Mars, and the last Duke of Montmorency,
son and grandson of two High Constables of France, felt the
stroke of the headsman's axe.

In 1642, when the mighty cardinal had attained the
highest pinnacle of success and fame, a mortal disease
declared itself. His physicians talked the usual platitudes
of hope, but he would have none of them, and sent for the
cure of St. Eustache. " Do you pardon your enemies ? "
the priest asked. u I have none, save those of the state,"
replied the dying cardinal, and, pointing to the Host, ex-
claimed, " There is my judge." "At my entry to office,"
he wrote to Louis XIII. in his political testament, " your
Majesty divided the powers of the state with the Huguenots ;
the great nobles demeaned themselves as if they were not
your subjects ; the governors of provinces acted as inde-
pendent sovereigns. In a word, the majesty of the crown
was degraded to the lowest depths of debasement and was
hardly recognisable at all." We have seen how the cardinal
changed all that ; yet Louis heard of his death without
emotion, and simply remarked — " Well, a great politician
has gone." In six months his royal master was gone too.
Louis has one claim to distinction ; he was the first king of
France since St. Louis who lived a clean life.

196

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Paris, under Marie de' Medici and Richelieu, saw many
and important changes. In 1612 a new Jacobin monastery

\j '

'> t&Lsk

1 -Svlr Kl^i^^^'^Yaf'

THE MEDICI FOUNTAIN, LUXEMBOURG GARDENS.

was founded in the Rue St. Honore for the reformed
Dominicans, destined to be later the theatre of Robespierre's

PARIS UNDER RICHELIEU 197

triumphs and to house the great Jacobin revolutionary club.1
In the same year the queen-regent bought a chateau and
garden from the Duke of Piney-Luxembourg, and commis-
sioned her architect, Solomon Debrosse, to build a new
palace in the style of the Pitti at Florence. The work was
begun in 161 5, and resulted in the picturesque but somewhat
Gallicised Italian palace which, after descending to Gaston
of Orleans and his daughter the Grande Mademoiselle, ends
a chequered career as palace, prison, house of peers, socialist-
meeting place by becoming the respectable and dull Senate-
house of the third Republic. The beautiful Renaissance
gardens have suffered but few changes ; adorned with De-
brosse's picturesque fountain, they form one of the most
charming parks in Paris. The same architect was employed
to restore the old Roman aqueduct of Arceuil and finished his
work in 1624. In 16 14 the equestrian statue in bronze of
Henry IV., designed by Giovanni da Bologna,and presented to
Marie by Cosimo II. of Tuscany, reached Paris after many
vicissitudes and was set up on the Pont Neuf by Pierre de
Fouqueville, who carved for it a beautiful pedestal of marble,
whereon were inscribed the most signal events and victories
of Henry's reign. This priceless statue was melted down for
cannon during the Revolution, and for years its site was
occupied by a cafe. In 1 8 1 8, during the Restoration, another
statue of Henry IV., by Lemot, cast from the melted figure
of Napoleon I. on the top of the Vendome column, was
erected where it now stands. The founder, who was an
imperialist, is said to have avenged the emperor by placing
pamphlets attacking the Restoration in the horse's belly.

In the seventeenth century the Pont Neuf was one of the
busiest centres of Parisian life. Streams of coaches and
multitudes of foot-passengers passed by. Booths of all
kinds displayed their wares ; quacks, mountebanks, ballad-
singers and puppet-shows, drew crowds of listeners. Evelyn
describes the footway as being three to four feet higher than
the road ; and at the foot of the bridge, says the traveller, is

1 The Marche St. Honore now occupies its site.

198

PARIS AND ITS STORY

a water-house, u whereon, at a great height, is the story of

our Saviour and the Woman of Samaria pouring water out

of a bucket. Above is a very rare dyall of several motions

with a chime. The water is conveyed by huge wheels,

_--- pumps and other

ff^-rl ~ engines, from the

'■.*'■* ^~ river beneath."

This was the
famous Chateau
d'Eau, or La
Samaritaine, er-
ected in 1608 to
pump water from
the Seine and dis-
tribute it to the
Louvre and the
Tuileries palaces.
The timepiece
was an industrieuse
korloge, which told
the hours, days,
and months.

In 1624 Henry
the Fourth's great
scheme for en-
larging and com-
pleting the Louvre
was committed by
Richelieu to his
architect, Jacques
Lemercier,and the
first stone of the Pavilion de l'Horloge was laid on 28th
June by the king. Lemercier was great enough and
modest enough to adopt his predecessor's design, and
having erected the pavilion, continued Lescot's west wing
northwards, turned the north-west angle and carried the
north wing to about a fourth of its designed extent.

PONT NEUF.

PARIS UNDER RICHELIEU 199

The Pavilion de l'Horloge thus became the central feature
of the west wing, which was exactly doubled in extent. The
south-east and north-east towers of the eastern wing of the
old Gothic Louvre, however, remained intact, and even as
late as 1650 Sylvestre's drawing shows us the south-east
tower still standing and the east wing only partly demolished.
Lemercier also designed a grand new palace for the cardinal
north of the Rue St. Honore, which was completed in 1636.
Richelieu's passion for the drama led him to include two
theatres as part of his scheme : a small one to hold about
six hundred spectators, and a larger one, which subsequently
became the opera-house, capacious enough to seat three
thousand. Magnificent galleries, painted by Philippe de
Champaigne and other artists, represented the chief events in
the cardinal's reign, and were hung with the portraits of the
great men of France. The courts were adorned with carv-
ings of ships' prows and anchors, symbolising the cardinal's
function as Grand Master of Navigation ; spacious
gardens, with an avenue of chestnut trees, which cost
300,000 francs to train, added to its splendours.

In this palace the great minister — busy with a yet vaster
scheme for building an immense Place Ducale, north of the
palace — passed away leaving its stately magnificence to the
king, whose widow, Anne of Austria, inhabited it during the
regency with her sons, Louis XIV. and Philip Duke of
Orleans, the founder of the Bourbon-Orleans family. The
famous architect, Francois Mansard, was employed by her
to extend the Palais Royal as it was then called, which subse-
quently became infamous as the scene of the orgies of Philip's
son during his regency. The buildings were further extended
by Philip Egalite, who destroyed the superb plantation of
chestnut trees and erected shops along the sides of the
gardens, which as cafes and gambling-saloons became a haunt
of fashionable vice and dissipation in the late eighteenth
century. The gardens of the royal palaces had always been
open to well-dressed citizens, but notices forbade entrance
to beggars, servants, and all ill-clad persons under pain of

200 PARIS AND ITS STORY

imprisonment, the carcan, and other graver penalties.
Egalite, however, to win popularity, opened his gardens
without restriction, and they soon became the forum of the
revolutionary agitation. Here Camille Desmoulins de-
claimed his impassioned orations and called Paris to arms.
The gambling-hells, of which there were over three hundred,
survived the Revolution, and Blucher and many an officer of
the allied armies lost immense sums there. The Palais
Royal became subsequently the residence of the Orleans
family, and now serves as the meeting-place of the Conseil
d'Etat.

In the early seventeenth century nine lovers of literature
associated themselves for the purpose of holding a friendly
symposium, where they discoursed of books, and read and criti-
cised each other's compositions ; the meetings were followed
by a modest repast and a peripatetic discussion. The master-
ful cardinal, who would rule the French language as well as
the state, called the nine together, and in 1635 organised
them into an Academie Franchise, whose function should be
to perfect and watch over the purity of the French tongue.
The Parlement granted letters-patent, limited the number
of academicians to forty, and required them to take cog-
nisance of French authors and the French language alone.
The original nine, however, were far from gratified, and
always regretted the " golden age " of early days. Richelieu
established the Jardin des Plantes for the use of medical
students, where demonstrations in botany were given ; he
rebuilt the college and church of the Sorbonne where his
monument,1 a masterpiece of sculpture by Girardon from
Lebrun's designs, may still be seen. He cheapened the
postal service,2 established the Royal Press at the Louvre
which in twenty years published seventy Greek, Latin,

1 In 1793 the tomb was desecrated, and the head removed from the
body, but in 1863, as an inscription tells, the head was recovered by the
historian Duruy, and after seventy years reunited to the trunk.

2 A letter from Paris to Lyons was taxed at two sous : it now costs
three.

PARIS UNDER RICHELIEU 201

Italian and French classics. He issued the first political
weekly gazette in France, was a liberal patron of men of
letters and of artists, and saw the birth and fostered the
growth of the great period of French literary and artistic
supremacy.

Another of Henry the Fourth's plans for the aggrandise-
ment of Paris was carried out by the indefatigable minister.
As early as 867 the bishops of Paris had been confirmed by
royal charter in their possession of the two islands east of
the Cite, the Isle Notre Dame and Isle aux Vaches. From
time immemorial these had been used as timber-yards, and
in 1 6 16 the chapter of the cathedral was induced to treat
with Christophe Marie, contractor for the bridges of France
and others, who agreed to fill in the" channel,1 which separated
the islands ; to cover them with broad streets of houses and
quays, and to build certain bridges ; but expressly contracted
never to fill up the arm of the Seine between the Isle Notre
Dame, and the Cite. The first stone of the new bridge
which was to connect the islands with the north bank was
laid by Louis XIII. in 16 14 and named Pont Marie, after
the contractor. • In 1664 a church, dedicated to St. Louis,
was begun on the site of an earlier chapel by Levau, but not
completed until 1726 by Donat.

The new quarter soon attracted the attention of rich
financiers, civic officers, merchants and lawyers, some of
whose hotels were designed by Levau, and decorated by Le-
brun and Leseur. Madame Pompadour's brother lived
there ; the Duke of Lauzan, husband of the Grande Made-
moiselle, lived in his hotel on the Quai d'Anjou (No. 17);
Voltaire lived with Madame du Chatelet in the Hotel
Lambert (No. 1 Quai d'Anjou). To the precieuses of
Moliere's time the Isle St. Louis (for so it was called) became
the Isle de Delos, around whose quays the gallants and ladies
of the period were wont to promenade at nightfall. The
Isle, as it is now familiarly known, is one of the most peace-

1 The Rue Poulletier marks the line of the old channel between the
islands.

202 PARIS AND ITS STORY

ful quarters of Paris, and has a strangely provincial aspect
to the traveller who paces its quiet streets.

In 1622 Paris was raised from its subjection to the
Metropolitan of Sens, and became for the first time the seat
of an archbishopric ; the diocese was made to correspond to
the old territories of the Parisii.

Among the many evils attendant on a monarchy, which
Samuel recited to the children of Israel, that of the possibility
of a regency might well have found place. Louis XIV. was
less than five years of age when his father died, and once
again the great nobles turned the difficulties of the situation
to their own profit. The queen-regent, Anne of Austria,
had retained in office Cardinal Mazarin, Richelieu's faithful
disciple, chosen by him to continue the traditions of his policy.
The new cardinal-minister, scion of an old Sicilian family,
was a typical Italian ; he had none of his predecessor's virile
energy and directness of purpose, but ruled by his subtle
wit and cool, calculating patience. " Time and I," was his
device. He was an excellent judge of men, and profoundly
distrusted "the unlucky," always satisfying himself that a
man was "lucky," before he employed him. Conscious of
his foreign origin, Mazarin hesitated to take strong measures,
and advised a policy of conciliation with the disaffected
nobles. Anne filled their pockets, and for a time the whole
language of the court is said to have consisted of the frv
little words " La reine est si bonne." But the ambitious
courtiers soon aimed at higher game, and a plot was dis-
covered to assassinate the foreign cardinal. The Duke of
Beaufort, chief conspirator, a son of the Duke of Vendome
and grandson of Henry IV., by Gabrielle d'Estrees, was
imprisoned in the keep at Vincennes, and his associates
interned at their chateaux.

The finances which Richelieu had left in so flourishing a
condition were soon exhausted by the lavish benevolence of
the court, and were unhappily in the hands of Emery (a
clever but cynical official, who had formerly been a
fraudulent bankrupt), whose rigorous exactions and indiffer

MAZARIN 203

ence to public feeling aroused the indignation of the
whole nation. In 1646 23,800 defaulters lay rotting
in the jails, and an attempt to enforce an odious tax
on all merchandise entering Paris led to an explosion of
popular wrath. The Parlement, by the re-assertion of its
claims to refuse the registration of an obnoxious decree of
the crown, made itself the champion of public justice. The
four sovereign courts of the Parlement met in the hall of
St. Louis, and refused to register the tax. " The Parlement
growled," said the Cardinal de Retz, "and the people awoke
and groped about for laws and found none." Anne was
furious and made the boy-king hold a " bed ■ of justice " to
enforce the registration of the decree. But the Parlement
stood firm, declared itself the guardian of the public and
private weal, claiming even to reform abuses and to discuss
and vote on schemes of taxation. So critical was the situa-
tion that the court was forced to bend, and to postpone the
humiliation of the Parlement to a more convenient season.
The glorious issue of the campaigns of Conde against
the Houses of Spain and Austria seemed to offer a fitting
occasion. On 26th August 1648, while a Te Deum was
being sung at Notre Dame for the victory of Lens, and a
grand trophy of seventy-three captured flags was displayed
to the people, three of the most stubborn members of the
Parlement were arrested. One escaped, but while the vener-
able Councillor Broussel was being hustled into a carriage, a cry
was raised, which stirred the whole of Paris to insurrection.
In the excitement a street porter was shot by a captain of
the Guards, the Marquis of Meilleraye, and the next
morning the court, aroused by cries of " Liberty and
Broussel," found the streets of Paris barricaded and the
citizens in arms, even children of five or six years carrying
poignards. De Retz, the suffragan archbishop of Paris,
came in his robes to entreat Anne to appease the people, but

1 So named from the wooden seat, or couche de bois, covered with rich
stuff embroidered with fleur-de-lys, on which the king sat when he
attended a meeting of the Parlement.

204

PARIS AND ITS STORY

was snubbed for his pains. " It is a revolt," the queen cried,
4 'to imagine a revolt possible ; these are silly tales of those
who desire it : the king will enforce order." De Retz, angry
and insulted, left to join the insurrection and to become its
leader. The venerable president of the Parlement, Mole, and
the whole body of members next repaired to the Palais Royal
with no better success : the queen's only answer was a gibe.
As they returned crestfallen from the Palais Royal they were
driven back by the infuriated people, who threatened them
with death, and clamoured for Broussel's release or Mazarin
as a hostage. Nearly all the councillors fled, but the pre-
sident, with exalted courage, faced them and, answering
gravely, as if in his judgment-seat, said, "If you kill me, all
my needs will be six feet of earth " : he strode on with calm
self-possession, amid a shower of missiles and threats, to the
hall of St. Louis. The echo of Cromwell's triumph in
England, however, seemed to have reached the Palais Royal,
and the queen-regent was at length induced to treat. The
demands of the people were granted and Broussel was
liberated, amid scenes of tumultuous joy.

In February of the next year the regency made an effort
to reassert its authority. The queen and the royal princes
left Paris for the palace of St. Germain and gathered an
army under Conde : the Parlement taxed themselves heavily,
tried their hands at organising a citizen militia, and allied
themselves with the popular Duke of Beaufort, now at
liberty, and leader of a troop of brilliant but giddy young
nobles. The Bastille was captured by the Parlement, and
the university promised its support and a subsidy. This
was the origin of the civil war of the Fronde, one of the most
extraordinary contests in history ; its name is derived from
the puerile street fights with slings of the printers' devils and
schoolboys of Paris. The incidents of the war read like scenes
in a comic opera. A hundred thousand armed citizens were
besieged by eight thousand soldiers. The evolution of a
burlesque form of cavalry, called the corps of the Fortes
Cocheres, formed by a conscription of one horseman for every

THE FRONDE 205

house with a carriage gate, became the derision of the royal
army. They issued forth, beplumed and beribboned, and
fled back to the city, amid the execrations of the people, at
the sight of a handful of troops. Every defeat — and the
Parisians were always defeated — formed a subject for songs
and mockery. Councils of war were held in taverns, and De
Retz was seen at a sitting of the Parlement in the hall of
St. Louis with a poignard sticking out of his pocket :
" There is the archbishop's prayer-book," said the people.
The more public-spirited members of the Parlement soon,
however, tired of the folly. Mazarin won over De Retz by
the offer of a cardinal's hat, and a compromise was effected
with the court, which returned to Paris in April 1 649. The
people were still bitter against Mazarin, and invaded the
Palais de Justice, demanding the cardinal's signature to
the treaty, that it might be burned by the common
hangman.

Successful generals are bad masters, and the jack-
boot was now supreme at court. Soon Conde's insolent bear-
ing and extravagant demands, and the vanity of his entourage
of young nobles, dubbed petits maltres^ became intolerable :
he was arrested at the Louvre and sent to the keep at
Vincennes. But Mazarin, thinking himself secure, delayed
the promised reward to De Retz, who joined the disaffected
friends of Conde : and the court, again foiled, was forced to
release Conde, surrender the two princes, and exile the hated
Mazarin, who, none the less, ruled the storm by his subtle
policy from Cologne. Conde, disgusted alike with queen
and Parlement, now fled to the south, and raised the
standard of rebellion.

The second phase of the wars of the Fronde became a
more serious matter. Turenne, won over by the court, was
given command of the royal forces and moved against
Conde. The two armies, after indecisive battles, raced to
Paris and fought for its possession outside the Porte St.
Antoine. The Frondeurs occupied what is now the
Faubourg St. Antoine : the royalists the heights of

206 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Charonne to the east. It was a stubborn and bloody contest.
The armies were led by the two greatest captains of the age,
and fought under the eyes of their king, who with the queen-
mother watched the struggle from the eminence now crowned
by the cemetery of Pere la Chaise. " I have seen not one
Conde to-day, but a dozen," cried Turenne, as victory
inclined to the Royalists. The last word was, however, with
the Duke of Orleans : while he sat hesitating in the
Luxembourg, the Grande Mademoiselle ordered the guns of
the Bastille to be turned against Turenne, and the citizens
opened the gates to Conde. Again his incorrigible insol-
ence and brutality made Paris too hot for him, and with the
disaffected princes he returned to Flanders to seek help from
his country's enemies. It was a fatal mistake, and Mazarin
was not slow to turn it to advantage. He prudently retired
while public feeling was won over to the young king, who
was soon entreated by the Parlement and citizens to return
to Paris. When the time was ripe, Mazarin had the Duke
of Orleans interned at Blois, Conde was condemned to death
in contumacio : De Retz was sent to Vincennes. Ten
councillors of the Parlement were imprisoned or degraded,
and in three months Mazarin returned to Paris with the
pomp and equipage of a sovereign. It was the end of the
Fronde, and of the attempt of the Parlement, a venal body J
devoid of representative basis, to imitate the functions of the
English House of Commons. The crown emerged from the
contest more absolute than before, and Louis never forgot
the days when he was a fugitive witn his mother, and driven
to lie on a hard mattress at the palace of St. Germain. In
1655 the Parlement of Paris met to prepare remonstrances
against a royal edict : the young king heard of it while
hunting at Vincennes, made his way to the hall of St. Louis

1 One of the schemes of Francis I. to raise money had been to offer
the benches to the highest bidders, and under the law of 1604 the office
of councillor became a hereditary property on payment to the court of
one-sixtieth of its value. Moreover, the Parlement was but a local body,
one among several others in the provinces.

Notre Dame.

THE FRONDE 207

booted * and spurred, rated the councillors and dissolved
the sitting.

The years following on the internal peace were a period
of triumphant foreign war and diplomacy. Mazarin
achieved his purpose of marrying the Infanta of Spain to his
royal master ; he added to and confirmed Richelieu's terri-
torial gains and guided France at last to triumph over the
Imperial House of Austria. On 9th March 1661, after
handing Louis a code of instructions for future guidance
and commending his ministers to the royal favour, the great
Italian, " whose heart was French if his tongue were not,"
confronted death at Vincennes with firmness and courage.
Mazarin was, however, a costly servant, who bled his adopted
country to satisfy his love for the arts and splendours of life,
to furnish dowries to his nieces, and to exalt his family.
His vast palace (now the Bibliotheque Nationale), with its
library of 35,000 volumes, was furnished with princely
splendour. He left 2,000,000 livres to found a college
for the gratuitous education of sixty sons of gentle-
men from the four provinces — Spanish, Italian, German and
Flemish — recently added to the crown, in order that French
culture and grace might be diffused among them ; they
were to be taught the use of arms, horsemanship, dancing,
Christian piety and belles-lettres. A vast domed edifice
was raised on the site of the Tour de Nesle, and became
famous as the college of the Four Nations. It was subse-
quently expropriated and given by the Convention to the
five learned academies of France, and is now known as the
Institut de France.

1 The added indignity of the whip is an invention of Voltaire.

THE INSTITUT DE FRANCE.

CHAPTER XV

THE GRAND MONARQUE VERSAILLES AND PARIS

The century of Louis XIV., whose triumphs have been so
extravagantly celebrated by Voltaire, saw the culmination
and declension of French military glory, literary splendour,
and regal magnificence. Never did king of France inherit
a more capable and patriotic generation of public servants,
trained as they had been under the two greatest administra-
tors the land had ever seen ; never did king grasp the
sceptre with more absolute and unquestioned power.
I UEtat cest moi" if not Louis' words, were at least
his guiding principle. Gone were the times of cardinal
dictators. When the ministers came after Mazarin's death
to ask the king whom they should now address themselves
to, the answer came like a thunderbolt : " To me ! " and the
Secretary for War, with affrighted visage, hastened to the
queen-mother, who only laughed. Alone among his
colleagues Mazarin knew his king, and warned them that
there was enough stuff in Louis to make four kings and one
honest man.

What brilliant constellations of great men cast their fair
influences over the birth of Louis XIV.! "Sire," said
Mazarin, when dying "I owe you all — but I can partially
acquit myself by leaving you Colbert." Austere Colbert
was a merchant's son of Rheims ; his Atlantean shoulders
bore the burden of five modern ministries ; his vehe-
ment industry, admirable science and sterling honesty
created order out of financial chaos and found the
sinews of war for an army of 300,000 men before the
Peace of Ryswick and 450,000 for the war of the
o 209

2io PARIS AND ITS STORY

Spanish succession ; he initiated, nurtured and perfected
French industries ; he created a navy that crushed the
combined English and Dutch fleets off Beachy Head, swept
the Channel for weeks, burnt English ports, carried terror
into English homes, and for a time paralysed English com-
merce. Louvois, his colleague, organised an army that
made his master the arbiter of Europe ; Conde and Turenne
were its victorious captains. Vauban, greatest of military
engineers, captured towns in war and made them im-
pregnable in peace ; fortified 233 cities and places,
and shared with Louvois the invention of the com-
bined musket and bayonet, the deadliest weapon of
war as yet contrived. De Lionne, by masterly diplomacy,
prepared and cemented the conquests of victorious generals.
Supreme in arts of peace were Corneille, Moliere, Racine, La
Fontaine, Lebrun, Claude Lorrain, Puget, Mansard, and
Perrault. We shall learn in the sequel what the Grand
Monarque did with this unparalleled inheritance.

None of the great ones of the earth is so intimately
known to us as the magnificent histrion, whose tinselled
grandeur and pompous egoism has been laid bare by the
Duke of St. Simon, prince of memoirists. Never has the
frippery of a court been shrivelled by such fierce and con-
suming light glaring like a fiery sun on its meretricious
splendours. And what a court it is ! What a gilded
crowd of princes and paramours, harlots and bastards,
struts, fumes, intrigues through the Memoirs of the Duke of
St. Simon ! By a few strokes of his pen he etches for us, in
words that bite like acid, the fools and knaves, the wife-
beaters and adulterers, the cardsharpers and gamesters, the
grovelling sycophants with their petty struggles for preced-
ence or favour, their slang, their gluttony and drunkenness,
their moral and physical corruption.

External grandeur and regal presence,1 a profound belief
in his divinely-appointed despotism, and in earlier years a

1 Louis used, however, to stilt his low stature by means of thick pads in
his boots.

Place du Carrousel.

THE GRAND MONARQUE 211

capacity for work rare among his predecessors, the lord of
France certainly possessed. " He had a grand mien," says St.
Simon, "and looked a veritable king of the bees." Much has
been made of Louis' incomparable grace and respectful cour-
tesy to women ; but the courtesy of a king who doffs his hat to
every serving wench yet contrives a staircase to facilitate the
debauching of his queen's maids-of-honour, and exacts of his
mistresses and the ladies of his court submission to his will
and pleasure, even under the most trying of physical dis-
abilities, is at least wanting in consistency. The king's
mental equipment was less than mediocre ; he was barely
able to read and write, was ignorant of the commonest
facts of history, and fell into the grossest blunders in
public. Like all small-minded men, Louis was jealous of
superior merit and preferred mediocrity rather than genius
in his ministers. Small wonder that his reign ended in
shame and disaster.

On the 6th of June 1662, the young king, notwith-
standing much public misery consequent on two years of
bad harvests, organised a magnificent carrousel (tilting)
in the garden that fronted the Tuileries. Five companies
of nobles, each led by the king or one of the princes, were
arrayed in gorgeous costumes as Romans, Persians, Turks,
Armenians and Savages. Louis, who of course led the
Romans, was followed by a superb train of many squires,
twenty-four pages, fifty horses each led by two grooms, and
fifty footmen dressed as lictors, carrying gilded fasces. The
royal princes headed similar processions. So great was the
display of jewels that all the precious stones in the world
seemed brought together ; so richly were the costumes of
the knights and the trappings of the horses em-
broidered with gold and silver that the cloth beneath could
barely be seen. The king and the princes rode by with a
prodigious quantity of diamonds and rubies glittering on
their costumes and equipages ; an immense amphitheatre
afforded seats for a multitude of spectators, and in a
smaller pavilion, richly gilded, sat the two queens of

212 PARIS AND ITS STORY

France, the queen of England, and the royal prin-
cesses. The first day was spent in tilting at Medusa
heads and heads of Moors : the second at rings. Louis
is said to have greatly distinguished himself by his skill.
Maria Theresa, his young queen, distributed the prizes,
and the garden was afterwards named the Place du
Carrousel.

Louis, however, hated Paris, for his forced exile during
the troubles of the Fronde rankled in his memory. Nor
were the associations of St. Germain any more pleasant. A
lover of the chase and all too prone to fall into the snares of
" fair, fallacious looks and venerial trains," the retirement of
his father's hunting lodge at Versailles, away from the prying
eyes and mocking tongues of the Parisians, early attracted
him. There he was wont to meet his mistress, Madame de
la Valliere, and there he determined to erect a vast pleasure-
palace and gardens. The small chateau, built by Lemercie
in the early half of the seventeenth century, was handed ove
to Levau in 1668, who, carefully respecting his predecessor'
work in the Cour de Marbre, constructed two immen
wings, which were added to by J. H. Mansard, as the requir
ments of the court grew. The palace stood in the mids
of a barren, sandy plain, but Louis' pride demanded th
Nature herself should bend to his will, and an army of artist
engineers and gardeners was concentrated there, who at the
sacrifice of incredible wealth and energy, had so far advanced
the work that the king was able to come into residence in
1682.

In spite of seas of reservoirs fed by costly hydrauli
machinery at Marly, which lifted the waters of the Seine t<
an aqueduct that led to Versailles, the supply was deeme
inadequate, and orders were given to divert the river Eur
between Chartres and Maintenon to the gardens of th
palace. For years an army of thirty thousand men were
employed in this one task, at a cost of money and human
life greater than that of many a campaign. So heavy was
the mortality in the camp that it was forbidden to speak of

THE GRAND MONARQUE 213

the sick, and above all of the dead, who were carried away
in cartloads by night for burial. All that remains of this
cruel folly are a few ruins at Maintenon.

After the failure of this scheme, subterranean water-
courses were contrived. The plaisir du roi must be sated at
any cost, and at length a magnificent garden was created,
filled with a population of statues and adorned with gigantic
fountains. Soon the king tired of the bustle and noise of
Versailles, and a miserable and swampy site at Marly, the
haunt of toads and serpents and creeping things, was
transformed into a splendid hermitage. Hills were levelled,
great trees brought from Compiegne, most of which soon
died and were as quickly replaced ; fish-ponds, adorned
by exquisite paintings, were made and unmade ; woods
were metamorphosed into lakes, where the king and a
select company of courtiers disported themselves in
gondolas ; cascades refreshed their ears in summer heat.
Precious paintings, statues and costly furniture charmed
the eye inside the hermitage — and all to receive the king
and his intimates from Wednesday to Saturday on a
few occasions in the year. St. Simon writes of what
he saw, and estimates that Marly cost more than Ver-
sailles.1 Nothing remains to-day of all this splendour :
it was neglected by Louis' successors and sold in lots during
the Revolution.

After a life of wanton licentiousness, Louis, at the age of
forty, was captivated bythe mature charms of a widow of forty-
three, a colonial adventuress of noble descent, who after the
death of her husband, the crippled comic poet Scarron,
became governess to the king's illegitimate children by
Madame de Montespan. Soon after the death of the queen
Maria Theresa, the widow Scarron, known to history as
Madame de Maintenon, was secretly married to her royal
lover, who for the remainder of his life was her docile slave.

1 Taine, basing his calculation on a MS. bound with the monogram
of Mansard, estimated the cost of Versailles in modern equivalent at about
750,000,000 francs (^30,000,000 sterling.)

2i4 PARIS AND ITS STORY

At the famous military manoeuvres at Compiegne after the
Peace of Ryswick, organised to display the resources of the
country and to enable the court to witness the circumstance
of a great siege, Louis was seen, hat in hand, bending over
Madame de Maintenon's sedan-chair, which stood at a coign
of vantage on the ramparts, explaining to her the various
movements of the troops. " I could describe the scene,
says St. Simon, " as clearly forty years hence as I do now.'
An aide-de-camp, approaching from below to ask the king'
orders, was dumbfoundered by the sight and could scarcel
stammer out his message. The effect on the soldiers wa
indescribable : every one asked what that chair meant ove
which the king was bending uncovered.

A narrow bigot in matters of religion and completely unde
the influence of fanatics, Madame de Maintenon persuade
Louis that a crusade against heresy would be a fitting atone
ment for his past sins. In 1681 she writes, "The king i
seriously thinking of his salvation and of that of his subject
and if God spares him to us there will soon be but on
religion in his kingdom." Colbert, who had always stoo
by the Protestants, died (1 683) in disfavour, protesting that i
he had done for God what he had done for the king, he would
have been saved ten times over. At first political pressur
and money were tried; a renegade Protestant was give
control of a " conversion fund," and six livres were pai
for each convert. Children were seduced from their parents
brutal dragoons were quartered on Protestant families, and
as a result many of the wretched people submitted. " Ever
post," wrote Madame de Maintenon, " brings tidings whic
fill the king with joy ; conversions take place daily b
thousands." Thousands too, proved stubborn, and on
22nd October 1685, the first blow was struck. By th
revocation of the Edict of Nantes the charter of Protestan
liberties was destroyed, and those who had given five out o
ten marshals to France, including the great Turenne, wer
denied the right of civil existence. Whole cities were
depopulated ; tens of thousands (for the Huguenots ha

THE GRAND MONARQUE 215

long ceased to exist as a political force) of law-abiding
citizens expatriated themselves and carried their indus-
tries to enrich foreign lands.1 Many pastors were martyred,
and drummers were stationed at the foot of the scaffold
to drown their exhortations to the spectators. Let us
not say persecution is ineffective ; Duruy estimates the
Calvinist population of France before the revocation
of the Edict at 1,000,000: in 1870 at 15,000 to
18,000. On the whole, the measure was ap-
proved by the nation ; Racine, La Fontaine, the great
Jansenist Arnault, as well as Bossuet and Massillon,
applauded. The king was hailed a second Constantine,
and believed he had revived the times of the apostles.
But the consequences to France were far-reaching and
disastrous. In less than two months the Catholic James
II. of England was a discrowned fugitive, and the Calvinist
William of Orange, the inveterate enemy of France, sat in
his place ; England's pensioned neutrality was turned
to bitter hostility, and every Protestant power in Europe
stirred to fierce resentment. Seven years of war followed,
which exhausted the immense resources of France ; seven
years,2 rich in glory perhaps, but lean years indeed to the
dumb millions who paid the cost in blood and money.
" Nearly the tenth part of the nation," writes Vauban,
after the Peace of Ryswick, " is reduced to beggary ; of the
nine other parts, five are little removed from the same
condition ; three -tenths are very straitened ; the remaining
tenth counts no more than a hundred thousand, of which not
ten thousand may be classed as very well off " {fort d Paise.)
Three short years of peace and recuperation ensued,
when the acceptance of the crown of Spain by Louis' grand-
son, Philip of Anjou, in spite of Maria Theresa's solemn

1 The writer, whose youth was passed among the descendants of the
Huguenot silk-weavers of Spitalfields, has indelible memories of their
sterling character and admirable industry.

2 Marshal Luxembourg was dubbed the Tapissier de Notre Dame (the
upholsterer of Notre Dame), from the number of captured flags he sent to
the cathedral.

216 PARIS AND ITS STORY

renunciation for herself and her posterity of all claim to the
Spanish succession, roused all the old jealousy of France and
brought her secular enemy, the House of Austria, to a new
coalition against her.

Woe to the nation whose king is thrall to women. The
manner in which this momentous step was taken is character-
istic of Louis. Two councils were held in Madame de
Maintenon's room ; her advice was asked by the king ;
and apparently turned the scale in favour of acceptance.
"For a hundred years," says Taine, "from 1672 to 1774,
every time a king of France made war it was by pique
or vanity, by family or private interest, or by condescension
to a woman." Still more amazing is the fact that, for
years, the court of Madrid was ruled by a Frenchwoman,
Madame des Ursins, the camerera major of Philip's queen,
who made and unmade ministers, controlled all public
appointments, and even persuaded the French ambassador
to submit all dispatches to her before sending them to
France. Madame de Maintenon was equally omnipotent
at Versailles ; she decided what letters should or should
not be shown to the king, kept back disagreeable news,
and held everybody in the hollow of her hand, from
humblest subject to most exalted minister. This was
the atmosphere from which men were sent to meet
the new and more potent combination of States that
opposed the Spanish succession. Chamillart, a pitiful
creature of Madame de Maintenon's, sat in Colbert's
place. Gone were Turenne and Conde and Luxem-
bourg ; the armies of the descendant of St. Louis were
led by the Duke of Vendome, a foul lecher, whose
inhuman vices went far to justify the gibe of Mephis-
topheles that men use their reason c< um thierischer ah
jedes Thier zu sein."

The victories of the Duke of Marlborough and of Prince
Eugene spread consternation at court. When, in 1704,
the news of Blenheim oozed out at Versailles, the king's
grief was piteous to see. Scarce a noble family but had

THE GRAND MONARQUE 217

one of its members killed, wounded, or a prisoner. Two
years later came the defeat of Ramillies, to be followed
in three months by the disaster at Turin. The balls and
masquerades and play at Marly went merrily on ; but
at news of the defeat of Oudenarde and the fall of Lille,
even the reckless courtiers were subdued, and for a month
gambling and even conversation ceased. At the sound
of an approaching horseman they ran hither and thither,
with fear painted on their cheeks. Wildest schemes for
raising money were tried ; a large sum was wasted on
mining for gold in the Pyrenees ; taxes were levied on
baptisms and marriages. Sums raised for the relief of the
poor and the maintenance of highways were expropriated,
and the wretched peasants were forced to repair the roads
without payment, some dying of starvation at their work.
The coinage was debased. King and courtiers, with ill-
grace, sent their plate to the mint. A plan for the
recapture of Lille was mooted, in which Louis was to
take part, but, for lack of money, the king's ladies were
not to accompany him to the seat of war as they had
hitherto done.1 The expedition was to remain a secret ;
but the infatuated Louis could withhold nothing from
Madame de Maintenon, and she never rested until she had
foiled the whole scheme and disgraced Chamillart, who had
concealed the preparations from her.

The court had now grown so accustomed to defeats that
Malplaquet was hailed as half a victory ; but, in 17 10,
so desperate was the condition of the treasury, that a financial
and social debacle was imminent. The Dauphin, on leaving
the opera at Paris, had been assailed by crowds of women
shouting, " Bread ! bread ! " He only escaped by throwing
them money and promises, and never dared show his face in
Paris again. To appease the people, the poor were set to
level the boulevard near St. Denis, and were paid in doles

1 In a previous campaign the king had taken his queen and two mis-
tresses with him in one coach. The peasants used to amuse themselves
by coming to see the "three queens."

218 PARIS AND ITS STORY

of bread — bad bread. Even this failed them one morning,
and a woman who made some disturbance was dragged to
the pillory by the archers of the watch. An angry mob
released her, and proceeded to raid the bakers' shops. The
ugly situation was saved only by the firmness and sagacity
of the popular Marshal Boufflers. Another turn of the
financial screw was now meditated, and, as the taxes had
already " drawn all the blood from his subjects, and
squeezed out their very marrow," the conscience of the lord
of France was troubled. His Jesuit confessor, Le Tellier,
promised to consult the Sorbonne, whose learned doctors
decided that, since all the wealth of his subjects rightly
belonged to the king, he only took what was his own.

Towards the end of the seventeenth century, the quarrel
between the Jansenists and the Jesuits concerning subtle
doctrinal differences had grown acute through the publication
of Pascal's immortal Lettres Provinciates, and by Quesnel's
Reflexions Morales which the Jesuits had succeeded in
subjecting to papal condemnation. In 1709, Le Tellier
induced his royal penitent r to decree the destruction of one
of the two Jansenist establishments, and Port Royal des
Champs, between Versailles and Chevreuse, rendered famous
by the piety and learning of Arnault, Pascal and Nicolle,
was doomed. On the night of 28 th October 1709, the
convent was surrounded by Gardes Franchises and Suisses,
and on the following morning the chief of the police, with a
posse of archers of the watch entered, produced a lettre de
cachet, and gave the nuns a quarter of an hour to prepare
for deportation. The whole of the sisters were then
brutally expelled, " comme on en/eve les criatures prostitutes
dun lieu infdme" says St. Simon, and scattered among
other religious houses in all directions. The friends of the

1 When the Duke of Orleans was about to start for Spain, the king
asked whom he had chosen to accompany him. Orleans mentioned,
among others, Fontpertius. "What, nephew!" exclaimed Louis, "a
Jansenist ! " "So far from being a Jansenist," replied Orleans, "he
doesn't even believe in God." " Oh, if that is so," said the king, "I see
no reason why he should not go."

THE GRAND MONARQUE 219

buried were bidden to exhume their dead, and all unclaimed
bodies were flung into a neighbouring cemetery, where dogs
fought for them as for carrion. The church was profaned,
and all the conventual buildings were razed like houses of
regicides ; the materials were sold in lots, and not one stone
was left on another ; the very ground was ploughed up and
sown, <c not, it is true with salt," adds St. Simon, and that
was the only favour shown.

Two years after the scene at Port Royal, amid the
heartless gaiety of the court, the Angel of Death was busy
in Louis' household. On 14th April 171 1, the old
king's only lawful son, the Grand Dauphin, expired ; on
1 2th February 17 12, the second Dauphiness, the sweet
and gentle Adelaide of Savoy, the king's darling,
died of a malignant fever ; six days later the Duke
of Burgundy, her husband, was struck down ; on
8th March, the Duke of Brittany, their eldest child,
followed them. Three Dauphins had gone to the vaults
of St. Denis in less than a year ; mother, father, son, had
died in twenty-four days — a sweep of Death's scythe,
enough to touch even the hearts of courtiers. In a few
days the king gave orders for the usual play to begin at
Marly, and the dice rattled while the bodies of the
Dauphin and Dauphiness lay yet unburied. Well may
St. Simon exclaim, c'Are these princes made like other
men?"

In 17 1 2, some successes in Flanders enabled Louis to
negotiate the Peace of Utrecht. France retained her old
boundaries, and a Bourbon remained on the throne of
Spain ; but she was debased from her proud position of
arbiter of Europe, and the substantial profits of the war
went to England ' and Austria.

In May 17 14, the Duke of Berri, son of the Grand
Dauphin, died, and the sole direct heir to the throne was
now the king's great-grandson, the Duke of Anjou, a

1 Among the privileges granted to England was the monopoly of
supplying the Spanish Colonies with negro slaves.

220 PARIS AND ITS STORY

sickly child of five years. On September 17 15, the
Grand Monarque made a calm and an edifying end to
his long reign of seventy-two years, declaring that he
owed no man restitution, and trusted in God's mercy
for what he owed to the realm. He called the young child,
who was soon to be Louis XV., to his bedside, and
apparently without any sense of incongruity, exhorted him
to remember his God, to cherish peace, to avoid extra-
vagance, and study the welfare of his people. After
receiving the last sacraments he repeated the prayers for
the dying in a firm voice and, calling on God's aid, passed
peacefully away. None but his official attendants, his
priest and physicians, saw the end : two days before,
Madame de Maintenon had given away all her furniture,
and retired to St. Cyr.

The demolition of what remained of mediaeval Paris
proceeded apace during Louis XIV.'s lifetime, and, at his
death, the architectural features of its streets were sub-
stantially those of the older Paris of to-day. Colbert
had taken up the costly legacy of the unfinished Louvre
before the petrified banalities of Versailles and Marly
had engulfed their millions, and, in 1660, the Hotel de
Bourbon was given over to the housebreakers to make room
for the new east wing of the palace. So vigorously did
they set to work that when Moliere, whose company per-
formed there three days a week in alternation with the
Italian opera, came for the usual performance, he found the
theatre half demolished. He applied to the king, who
granted him the temporary use of Richelieu's theatre in
the Palais Royal, and his first performance there was given
on 20th January 1661.

Levau was employed to carry on Lemercier's work
on the Louvre, and had succeeded in completing the north
wing and the river front when Colbert stayed further pro-
gress and ordered him to prepare a model in wood of his
proposed east wing. Levau was stupefied, for he had
elaborated with infinite study a design for this portion of

0
<

PARIS UNDER THE GRAND MONARQUE 2 2 1

the palace, which he regarded as of supreme importance, and
which he hoped would crown his work. He had already laid
the foundations and erected the scaffolding when the order
came. Levau made his model, and a number of architects
were invited to criticise it : they did, and unanimously con-
demned it. Competitive designs were then submitted to
Colbert, who took advantage of Poussin's residence at Rome
to send them to the great Italian architects for their judg-
ment. The Italians delivered a sweeping and general con-
demnation, and Poussin advised that Bernini should be
employed to design a really noble building. Louis was
delighted by the suggestion, and the loan of the architect of
the great colonnade of St Peter's was entreated of the pope by
the king's own hand.

Bernini came to Paris where he was treated like a
prince, and drew up a scheme of classic grandeur. Levau's
work on the east front was destroyed, and in October 1665,
Bernini's foundations were begun. The new design, however,
ignored the exigencies of existing work and of internal con-
venience, and gave opportunities for criticisms and intrigue,
which the French architects, forgetting for the moment all
domestic rivalry, were not slow to make the most of. The
offended Italian left to winter in Rome, and was never seen
in Paris again. A munificent gift of 3000 gold louis
and a pension of 12,000 livres solaced his pride.

Among the designs originally submitted to Colbert was
one which had not been sent to Rome. It was the work of
an amateur, Claude Perrault, a physician by profession,
whose brother, Charles Perrault, was chief clerk in the
Office of Works. This was now brought forth, and a com-
mission, consisting of Levau, Lebrun, and Claude Perrault,
appointed to report on its practicability. Levau promptly
produced his own discarded designs, which won Lebrun's
approval, and both were submitted to the king for a final
decision. Louis was fascinated by the stately classicism of
Perrault's design, and this was adopted. "Architecture
must be in a bad state," said his rivals, " since it is put in

222 PARIS AND ITS STORY

the hands of a physician." The new wing was raised and
found to be seventy-two feet too long, whereupon the whole
of Levau's river front was masked by a new facade, rendered
necessary to correct the mistake, if mistake it were, and the
whole south wing l is in consequence much thicker than any
of the others which enclose the great quadrangle. Poor
Levau is said to have died of vexation and grief. Even to
this day the north-east end of Perrault's facade projects un-
symmetrically beyond the line of the north front. Perrault's
work has been much criticised and much praised. It evoked
Fergusson's ecstatic admiration, and is eulogised by another
critic as one of the finest pieces of architecture in any age.
Strangely enough, neither of these ever saw, nor has anyone
yet seen, more than a partial and stunted realisation of
Perrault's design (which involved a broad and deep fosse),
for, as the accompanying reproduction of a drawing by Blondel
demonstrates, the famous east front of the Louvre is like a
giant buried up to the knees, and the present first-floor
windows were an afterthought, their places having been de-
signed as niches to hold statues. The exactitude of Blon-
del's elevations was finally proved in 1 903 by the admirable
insight of the present architect of the Louvre, Monsieur G.
Redon, who was led to undertake the excavations which
brought to light a section of Perrault's decorated basement,
by noticing that the windows of the ground floor evidently
implied a lower order beneath. This basement, seven and
a half metres in depth, now buried, was in Perrault's scheme
designed to be exposed by a fosse of some fifteen to twenty
metres in width, and the whole elevation and symmetry of
the wing would have immensely gained by the carrying out
of his plans.

The construction, begun in 1665 was, however, inter-
rupted in 1676, owing to the king's abandonment of Paris,
Colbert strenuously protested against the neglect of the

1 Levau's south facade was not completely hidden by Perrault's screen,
for the roofs of the end and central pavilions emerged from behind it until
they were destroyed by Gabriel in 1755.

PARIS UNDER THE GRAND MONARQUE 223

Louvre, and warned his master not to squander his millions
away from Paris and suffer posterity to measure his grandeur
by the ell of Versailles. It availed nothing. In 1670,
1,627,293 livres were allotted to the Louvre ; in 1672 the
sum had fallen to 58,000 livres; in 1676 to 42,082 ; in
1680 the subsidies practically ceased, and the great palace
was utterly neglected until 1754 when Perrault's work was
feebly continued by Gabriel and Soufflot.

Two domed churches in the south of Paris — the Val de
Grace and St. Louis of the Invalides — were also erected
during Louis XIV.'s lifetime. Among the many vows made
by Anne of Austria during her twenty-two years' unfruitful
marriage was one made in the sanctuary of the nunnery of
the Val de Grace, to build there a magnificent church to
God's glory if she were vouchsafed a Dauphin. At length,
on 1 st April 1645, the proud queen was able to lead the
future king, a boy of seven years, to lay the first stone. The
church was designed by F. Mansard on the model of St.
Peter's at Rome, and was finished by Lemercier and others.
The thirteenth-century nunnery had been transferred to
Paris from Val Profond in 1624, and was liberally patronised
by Anne.

A refuge had been founded as early as Henry IV.'s reign
in an old abbey in the Faubourg St. Marcel, for old and dis-
abled soldiers. Louis XIV., the greatest creator of invalides
France had seen, determined in 1670 to extend the founda-
tion, and erect a vast hospital, capable of accommodating
his aged, crippled or infirm soldiers. Bruant and J. H.
Mansard ' among other architects were employed to raise
the vast pile of buildings which, when completed, are said
to have been capable of housing 7,000 men. A church
dedicated to St. Louis was comprehended in the scheme,
and, in 1680, a second Eglise Royale was erected, whose
gilded dome is so conspicuous an object in south Paris ; the

1 Jules Hardouin, the younger Mansard, was a nephew and pupil of
Francois Mansard, who assumed his uncle's name. The latter was the
inventor of the Mansard roof.

224 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Eglise Royale, which Mansard designed, was subsequently
added to the church of St. Louis, and became its choir.
Louis XIV., anticipating Napoleon's maxim that war must
support war, raised the funds needed for the foundation by
ingeniously requiring all ordinary and extraordinary treasurers
of war to retain two deniers * on every livre that passed
through their hands.

The old city gates of the Tournelle, Poissonniere (or
St. Anne), St. Martin, St. Denis, the Temple, St. Jacques,
St. Victor, were demolished, and triumphal arches, which
still remain, erected to mark the sites of the Portes St.
Denis and St. Martin. Another arch, of St. Antoine, was
designed to surpass all existing or ancient monuments of
the kind, and many volumes were written concerning the
language in which the inscription should be composed,
but the devouring maw of Versailles had to be filled, and
the arch was never completed. The king for whose glory
the monument was to be raised, cared so little for it, that
he suffered it to be pulled down.

Many new streets2 were made, and others widened,
among them the ill-omened Rue de la Ferronnerie. The
northern ramparts were levelled and planted with trees
from the Porte St. Antoine in the east to the Porte St.
Honore in the west, and in 1704 it was decided to
continue the planting in the south round the Faubourg
St. Germain. The Place Louis le Grand (now Vendome),
and the Place des Victoires were created ; the river
embankments were renewed and extended, and a fine stone
Pont Royal by J. H . Mansard, the most beautiful of
the existing bridges of Paris, was built to replace the
old wooden structure that led from the St. Germain
quarter to the Tuileries. This in its turn had replaced
a ferry (bac) established by the Guild of Ferrymen, to
transport the stone needed for the construction of the

1 The sixth part of a sou.

2 Twelve alone were added to the St. Honore quarter by levelling
the Hill of St. Roch and clearing away accumulated rubbish.

226 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Tuileries, and the street which leads to the bridge still
bears the name of the Rue du Bac. The Isle Louviers
was acquired by the Ville, and the evil-smelling tanneries
and dye-houses that disfigured the banks of the Sein<
between the Greve and the Chatelet were cleared away ;
many new fountains embellished the city, and ten new
pumps increased the supply of water. The poorer quarters
were, however, little changed from their old insanitary
condition. A few years later Rousseau, fresh from Turin,
was profoundly disappointed by the streets of Paris as h<
entered the city by the Faubourg St. Marceau. " I hac
imagined,' ' he writes, " a city as fair as it was great, anc
of a most imposing aspect, whose superb streets wen
lined with palaces of marble and of gold. I saw onl]
filthy, evil-smelling, mean streets, ugly houses black witl
dirt, a general air of uncleanness and of poverty, beggars
and carters, old clothes shops and tisane sellers."

It is now time to ask what had been done witl
the magnificent inheritance which the fourteenth Louis
had entered upon at the opening of his reign : h(
left to his successor a France crushed by an appalling
debt of 2,400,000,000 livres ; a noblesse and an
army in bondage to money-lenders ; public officials and
fund-holders unpaid, trade paralysed, and the peasants
in some provinces so poor that even straw was lack-
ing for them to lie upon, many crossing the frontiers
in search of a less miserable lot. Scarcity of bread
made disease rampant at Paris, and as many as 4,500
sick poor were counted at one time in the Hotel
Dieu alone. Louis left a court that "sweated hypocrisy
through every pore," and an example of licentious and
unclean living and cynical disregard of every moral
obligation, which ate like a cancer into the vitals of the
aristocracy.

CHAPTER XVI

PARIS UNDER THE REGENCY AND LOUIS XV. THE BROODING

STORM

Under the regency of the profligate Philip of Orleans,
a profounder depth was sounded. The vices of Louis'
court were at least veiled by a certain regal dignity, and
the Grand Monarque was always keenly sensitive, and at
times nobly responsive, to any attack upon the honour of
France ; but under the regent, libertinage and indifference
to national honour were flagrant and shameless. The Abbe
Dubois, a minister worthy of his prince, was, says St.
Simon, "a mean-looking, thin little man, with the face of
a ferret, in whom every vice fought for mastery." This
creature profaned the seat of Richelieu and Colbert, and
rose to fill a cardinal's chair. The revenues of seven
abbeys fed his pride and luxury, and his annual income
was estimated at 1,534,000 livres, including his bribe
from the English Government. His profanity was such
that he was advised to economise time by employing an
extra clerk to do his swearing for him, and during a fatal
operation, rendered necessary by a shameful disease, he
went to his account blaspheming and gnashing his teeth
in rage at his physicians.

Visitors to Venice whose curiosity may have led them
into the church of S. Moise, will remember to have seen
there a monument to a famous Scotchman — John Law.
This is the last home of an outlaw, a gambler, and an
adventurer, who, by his amazing skill and effrontery,
plunged the regency into a vortex of speculation, and
for a time controlled the finances of France. He per-

227

228 PARIS AND ITS STORY

suaded the regent that by a liberal issue of paper money
he might wipe out the accumulated national deficit of
100,000,000 livres, revive trade and industry, and in-
augurate a financial millennium. In 171 8 Law's Bank,
after a short and brilliant career as a private venture, was
converted into the Banque Royale, and by the artful
flotation of a gigantic trading speculation called the
Mississippi Company, the bank-notes and company shares
were so manipulated that the latter were inflated to
twenty times their nominal value. The whole city of
Paris seethed in a ferment of speculation. The premises
of the Banque Royale in the Rue Quincampoix were
daily besieged by a motley crowd of princes, nobles, fine
ladies, courtesans, generals, prelates, priests, bourgeois and
servants. A hunchback made a fortune by lending his
back as a desk ; lacqueys became masters in a day, and
a parvenu footman, by force of habit, jumped up behind
his own carriage in a fit of abstraction. The inevitable
catastrophe came at the end of 17 19. The Prince of
Conti was observed taking away three cartloads of silver
in exchange for his paper. A panic ensued, every holder
sought to realise, and the colossal fabric came down with
a crash, involving thousands of families in ruin and despair.
Law, after bravely trying to save the situation and narrowly
escaping being torn in pieces, fled to poverty and death at
Venice, and the financial state of France was worse than
before. Law was not, however, absolutely a quack ; there
was a seed of good in his famous system of mobilising
credit, and the temporary stimulus it gave to trade
permanently influenced mercantile practices in Europe.

In 1723, Louis XV. reached his legal majority. The
regent became chief minister, and soon paid the penalty
of his career of debauchery, leaving as his successor the
Duke of Bourbon, degenerate scion of the great Conde
and one of the chief speculators in the Mississippi bubble.
A perilous lesson had two years before been instilled into
the mind of the young Louis. After his recovery from

LOUIS XV. 229

an illness, an immense concourse of people had assembled
at a fite given in the gardens of the Tuileries palace ;
enormous crowds filled every inch of the Place du
Carrousel and the gardens ; the windows and even the
roofs of the houses were alive with people crying ci Vive le
roi!" Marshal Villeroi led the little lad of eleven to
a window, showed him the sea of exultant faces turned
towards him, and exclaimed, " Sire, all this people is yours ;
all belongs to you. Show yourself to them, and satisfy
them ; you are the master of all."

The Infanta of Spain, at four years of age, had been
betrothed to the young king, and in 1723 was sent to
Paris to be educated for her exalted future. She was
lodged in the Petite Galerie of the Louvre, over the garden
still known as the Garden of the Infanta,1 and after three
years of exile the homesick little maid was returned to
Madrid ; for Louis' weak health made it imperative that a
speedy marriage should be contracted if the succession to
the throne were to be assured. The choice finally fell on
the daughter of Stanislaus Leczynski, a deposed king of
Poland and a pensioner of France. Voltaire relates that the
poor discrowned queen was sitting with her daughter Marie
in their little room at Wissembourg when the father, bursting
in, fell on his knees, crying, "Let us thank God, my
child ! " " Are you then recalled to Poland ? " asked Marie.
" Nay, daughter, far better," answered Stanislaus, " you
are the queen of France." A magnificent wedding at
Fontainebleau, exalted gentle, pious Marie from poverty to
the richest queendom in Europe ; to a life of cruel
neglect and almost intolerable insult.

The immoral Duke of Bourbon was followed by
Cardinal Fleury, and at length France experienced a period
of honest administration, which enabled the sorely-tried

1 It extended as far as the entrance to the quadrangle opposite the
Pont des Arts. A double line of trees, north and south, enclosed a
Renaissance garden of elaborate design, and a charming bosquet, or wood,
filled the eastern extremity.

23o PARIS AND ITS STORY

land to recover some of its wonted elasticity. The Cardinal
was, however, dominated by the Jesuits, and both Protest-
ants and Jansenists felt their cruel hand. During the
persecution of the Jansenists in 1782 a deacon, named Paris,
died and was canonised by the popular voice. Miracles
were said to have been wrought at his sepulchre in the
cemetery of St. Medard ; fanatics flung themselves down
on the tomb and writhed in horrible convulsions. So great
was the excitement and disorder that the Archbishop of
Paris denounced the miracles as the work of Satan, and the
Government ordered the cemetery to be closed. The next
morning a profane inscription was found over the entrance
to the cemetery : —

u De par le rol defense a Dieu
De fa ire miracle en ce UeuT x

Before Louis sank irrevocably into the slothful in-
dulgence that stained his later years, he was stirred to essay
a kingly role by Madame de Chateauroux, the youngest of
four sisters who had successively been his mistresses. She
fired his indolent imagination by appeals to the memory of
his glorious ancestors, and the war of the Austrian succession
being in progress, Louis set forth with the army of the
great Marshal Saxe for Metz, where in August 1744 he was
stricken down by a violent fever, and in an access of piety
was induced to dismiss his mistress and return to his
abused queen. As he lay on the brink of death, given up
by his physicians and prepared for the end by the adminis-
tration of the last sacraments, a royal phrase admirably
adapted to capture the imagination of a gallant people came
from his lips. " Remember," he said to Marshal Noailles,
" remember that when Louis XIII. was being carried to the
grave, the Prince of Conde won a battle for France." The
agitation of the Parisians as the king hovered between life

1 " By order of the king, God is forbidden to work miracles in this
place."

COLONNE VENDOME.

LOUIS XV. 231

and death was indescribable. The churches were thronged
with sobbing people praying for his recovery ; when the
courtiers came with news that he was out of danger they
were borne shoulder high in triumph through the streets,
and fervent thanksgiving followed in all the churches.
People hailed him as Louis le Bien-Aime (the Well-Beloved) ;
even the callous heart of the king was pierced by their
loyalty and he cried, " What have I done to deserve such
love ? " So easy was it to win the affection of his warm-
hearted people.

The brilliant victories of Marshal Saxe, and the con-
sequent Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, brought some years of
prosperity to France. Wealth increased ; Paris became
more than ever a centre of intellectual splendour and
social refinement, where the arts administered to luxurious
ease. But it was a period of regal licentiousness un-
paralleled even in the history of France. Louis XIV. at
least exacted good breeding and wit in his mistresses, but
his descendant enslaved himself to the commonest and most
abandoned of women.

For twenty years the destinies of the French people,
and the whole patronage of the Government, the right to
succeed to the most sacred and exalted offices in the Church,
were bartered and intrigued for in the chamber of a harlot
and procuress. Under the influence of the Pompadours
and the Du Barrys a crowned roue allowed the state to
drift into financial, military and civil ■ disaster.

" Authentic proofs exist," says Taine, " demonstrating
that Madame de Pompadour cost Louis XV. a sum equal to
about seventy-two millions of present value (£2,880,000)."
She would examine the plans of campaign of her marshals in
her boudoir, and mark with patches (mouches) the places to
be defended or attacked. Such was the foolish extravag-
ance of the court that to raise money recourse was had to
an attempted taxation of the clergy, which the prelates

1 In 1753 between 20th January and 20th February two hundred
persons died of want (misere) in the Faubourg St. Antoine.

232

PARIS AND ITS STORY

successfully resisted ; the old quarrel with the Jansenists
was revived, and soon Church and Crown were convulsed by
an agitation that shook society to its very base. During
the popular ferment the king was attacked in 1757 by a
crack-brained fanatic named Damiens, who scratched him
with a penknife as he was entering his coach at Versailles.
The poor crazy wretch, who at most deserved detention in an
asylum, was first subjected to a cruel judicial torture, then
taken to the Place de Greve, where he was lacerated with
red-hot pincers and, after boiling lead had been poured into
the wounds, his quivering body was torn to pieces by four
horses, and the fragments burned to ashes.

A few years later the long-suffering Jansenists were
avenged with startling severity. The Jesuits, to their
honour be it said, shocked by the infamies of the royal
seraglio in the Pare aux Cerfs, made use of their ascendency
at court to awaken in the king's mind some sense of
decency : they did but add the bitter animosity of
Madame de Pompadour to the existing hostility of the
Parlement of Paris. Louis, urged by his minister the
Duke of Choiseul, and by the arts of his mistress,
abandoned the Jesuits to their enemies ; the Parlement
suppressed the Society in France, secularised its members
and confiscated its property.

The closing years of the Well-Beloved's reign were
years of unmitigated ignominy and disaster to France.
Her rich Indian conquests were muddled away, and the
gallant Dupleix died broken-hearted and in misery at
Paris. Canada was lost. During the Seven Years' War
the incapacity and administrative corruption of Madame
de Pompadour's favourites made them the laughing-stock
of Paris. In 1770 the Duke of Choiseul refused to tolerate
the vile Du Barry, whom we may see in Madame Campan's
Memoirs sitting on the arm of Louis' chair at a council
of state, playing her monkey tricks to amuse the old sultan,
snatching sealed orders from his hand and making the
foolish monarch chase her round the council chamber. She

LOUIS XV. 233

swore to ruin the duke and, aided by a cabal of Jesuit
sympathisers and noble intriguers, succeeded in compass-
ing his dismissal. The Parlement of Paris paid for its
temerity ; it and the whole of the parlements in France
were suppressed, and seven hundred magistrates exiled by
lettres de cachet. Every patriotic Frenchman now felt the
gathering storm. Madame Campan writes that twenty
years before the crash came it was common talk in her
father's house (he was employed in the Foreign Office) that
the old monarchy was rapidly sinking and a great change at
hand. Indeed, the writing on the wall was not difficult to
read. The learned and virtuous Malesherbes and many
another distinguished member of the suppressed parlements
warned the king of the dangers menacing the crown, but
so sunk was its wearer in bestial stupefaction that he only
murmured : " Well, it will last my time," and with his
flatterers and strumpets uttered the famous words — u Apres
nous k deluge"'' So lost to all sense of honour was Louis,
that he soiled his hands with bribes from tax-farmers who
ground the faces of the poor, and became a large share-
holder in an infamous syndicate of capitalists that bought
up the corn of France in order to export it and then import
it at enormous profit. This abominable Pacte de Famine
created two artificial famines in France ; its authors battened
on the misery of the people, and for any who lifted their
voices against it the Bastille yawned.

In 1768 the poor abused, injured and neglected queen,
Marie Leczynski died. The court went from bad to worse :
void of all dignity, all gaiety, all wit and all elegance, it
drifted to its doom. Six years passed, and Louis was
smitten by confluent small-pox and a few poor women
were left to perform the last offices on the mass of
pestiferous corruption that once was the fifteenth Louis
of France.1 None could be found to embalm the corpse,

1 Some conception of the insanitary condition of the court may be
formed by the fact that fifty persons were struck down there by this
loathsome disease during the king's illness.

234 PARIS AND ITS STORY

and spirits of wine were poured into the coffin which was
carried to St. Denis without pomp and amid the half-
suppressed curses of the people. Before the breath had
left the body, a noise as of thunder was heard approaching
the chamber of the Dauphin and Marie Antoinette : it
was the sound of the courtiers hastening to grovel before
the new king and queen. Warned that they had now
inherited the awful legacy of the French monarchy, they
flung themselves in tears on their knees, and exclaimed —
" O God, guide and protect us ! We are too young to
govern."

The degradation of the monarchy during the reign is
reflected in the condition of the royal palace in the capital.
Henry IVYs great scheme, which Louis XIII. had inherited
and furthered, included a colossal equestrian statue, which
was to stand on a rocky pedestal in the centre of a
new Place, before the east front of the Louvre, but the
regency revoked the scheme, and for thirty years nothing was
done. It had even been proposed under the ministry of
Cardinal Fleury to pull the whole structure down and sell
the site. The neglect of the palace during these years is
almost incredible. Perrault's fine facade was hidden by the
half-demolished walls of the Hotels de Longueville, de
Villequier, and de Bourbon. The east wing itself was
unroofed on the quadrangle side and covered with rotting
boarding. Perrault's columns on the outer facade were
unchannelled, the capitals unfinished, the portal un-
sculptured, and the post-office stabled its horses along the
whole of the wing from the middle entrance to the north
angle. The royal apartments of Anne of Austria in the
Petite Galerie were used as stables ; so, too, were the halls
where now is housed the collection of Renaissance sculpture.
The Infanta's garden was a yard where grooms exercised
their horses : a colony of poor artists and court attendants
were lodged in the upper floors, and over most of the great
halls entresols were constructed to increase this kind of
accommodation. The building was described as a huge

Place du Chatelet and Tour St. Jacques.

PARIS UNDER LOUIS XV. 235

caravanserai, where each one lodged and worked as he
chose, and over which might have been placed the
legend, " Ici on loge a pied et h cheval." Worse still,
an army of squatters, ne'er-do-weels, bankrupts and
defaulting debtors took refuge in the wooden sheds
left by the contractors, or built others — a miserable gan-
grene of hovels — against the east fagade. Perrault's base
had been concealed by rubbish and apparently forgotten.
Stove-pipes issued from the broken windows of the upper
floors, the beautiful stone-work was blackened by smoke,
cracked by frost and soiled by rusting iron clamps ; the
quadrangle was a chaos of uncut stone, rubbish and filth, in
the centre of which, where the king's statue was designed to
stand, the royal architect had built himself a large house ; a
mass of mean houses encumbered the Carrousel, and the
almost ruined church of St. Nicholas was a haunt of beggars.
Such a grievous eyesore was the building that the provost in
1 75 1 offered, in the name of the citizens, to repair and com-
plete the palace if a part were assigned to them as an Hotel
de Ville. In 1754 Madame de Pompadour's brother had
been appointed Commissioner of Works, and Louis was per-
suaded to authorise the repair and completion of the Louvre.
Gabriel being made architect set about his work by clearing
out the squatters and the accumulated rubbish in the quad-
rangle, and evicting the occupants of the stables. The ruins
of the Hotels de Longueville de Villequier and de Bourbon
were demolished, grass plots laid before Perrault's east front,
which was restored and for the first time made visible. The
west front, giving on the quadrangle, was then repaired and
the third order nearly completed, when funds were exhausted
and it was left unroofed. An epigram, put into the mouth
of the king of Denmark, who visited Paris in 1768, tersely
describes the condition of the palace at this time : —

" J' ai vu le Louvre et son enceinte immense,
Vaste palais qui depuis deux cent ans,
Toujours s'acheve et toujours se commence.
Deux ouvriers, manoeuvres faineants,

236 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Hatent tres lentement ces riches batiments
Et sont payes quand on y pense.1"

During Louis XVI. 's reign little or nothing was done.
Soufflot was making feeble efforts to complete Perrault's
north front when the Revolution came to arrest his work.
So lost to reverence and devoid of artistic sentiment were
the official architects of this period, that a sacrilege worse
than any wrought by revolutionists was perpetrated at the
instance of the canons of Notre Dame. Louis XIV. had
begun the vandalism by demolishing the beautiful old
Gothic high altar and replacing it by a huge, ponderous
anachronism in marble, on whose foundation stone, laid in
1699, was placed an inscription to the effect that Louis
the Great, son of Louis the Just, having subdued heresy,
established the true religion in his realm and ended wars
gloriously by land and sea, built the altar to fulfil the vow of
his father, and dedicated it to the God of Arms and Master
of Peace and Victory under the invocation of the Holy
Virgin, patroness and protector of his States. Many of the
fine old Gothic tombs of marble and bronze in the church,
the monuments of six centuries, were destroyed. But to the
reign of Louis the Well-Beloved was reserved the crowning
infamy: in 1741 the glorious old stained-glass windows,
rivalling those of Chartres in richness, were destroyed by
Levreil and replaced by grisaille with yt\\owfleur-de-lys orna-
mentation. Happily the replacing of the rose windows was
deemed too expensive, and they escaped destruction. The
famous colossal statue of St. Christopher,the equestrian monu-
ment of Philip le Bel, and a popular statue of the Virgin,
were broken down by these clerical iconoclasts. In 1771
the canons instructed Soufflot to throw down the pillar of
the central porch, with its beautiful statue of Christ, to
make room for their processions to enter. The priceless

1 "I have seen the Louvre and its huge enclosure, a vast palace which
for two hundred years is always being finished and always begun. Two
workmen, lazy hodmen, speed very slowly those rich buildings, and are
paid when they are thought of."

SOUTH DOOR OF NOTRE DAME.

238

PARIS AND ITS STORY

sculpture of the tympanum was cut through to make a
loftier and wider entrance, and the whole symmetry of the
west front was grievously destroyed.1 This hideous archi-
tectural deformity remained until a son of the Revolution,
Viollet-le-Duc, restored the portal to its original form.
After the havoc wrought at Notre Dame, SoufHot's energies
were diverted to the holy mount of St. Genevieve. Louis
XV. had attributed his recovery at Metz to the intercession
of the saint, and in 1754, when the abbot complained to the
king of the almost ruined condition of the abbey church, he
found a sympathetic listener. Soufflot and the chapter,
who shared the prevalent contempt of Gothic, decided to
abandon the venerable old pile, with its millennial associa-
tions of the patron saint of Paris, and to build a grand
domed classic temple on the abbey lands to the west. Funds
for the sacred work were raised by levying a tax on public
lotteries. The old church, with the exception of the tower,
was finally demolished in 1802, when the rude stone coffin
which had held the body of St. Genevieve until it was burnt
by revolutionary fanatics, was transferred to St. Etienne du
Mont.

On 6th September 1764, the crypt of the new St.
Genevieve being completed, the Well-Beloved laid the
first stone of the church. Scarcely was the scaffolding
removed after thirteen years of constructive labour, and
the expenditure of sixteen millions of livres, when it became
necessary to call in SoufHot's pupil Rondelet, to shore up
the walls and strengthen the columns which had proved too
weak to sustain the weight of the huge cupola. Before the
temple was consecrated the Revolutionists came, and noting
its monumental aspect used it with admirable fitness as a
Pantheon Francois for the remains of their heroes ; the
dome designed to cover the relics of St. Genevieve soared
over the ashes of Voltaire, Mirabeau, Rousseau and Marat.

1 The aspect of the west front with SoufHot's " improvements " is well
seen in Les Principaux Monuments Gothiques de V Europe, published in
Brussels, 1843.

Mont S. Genevieve from L'Ile S. Louis.

PARIS UNDER LOUIS XV.

239

Thrice has this unlucky fane been the prize of Christian and
Revolutionary reactionaries. In 1806 Napoleon I. restored
it to Christian worship, and in 1822 the famous inscription
— " Aux grands Hommes la Patrie reconnaisante " (" A grateful

INTERIOR OF ST. ETIENNE DU MONT.

country to her great men ") — was removed by Louis XVIII.,
and replaced by a dedication to God and St. Genevieve ; in
1830 Louis Philippe, the citizen king, transferred it to
secular and monumental uses, and restored the former in-
scription ; in 1 851 the perjured Prince-President Napoleon,
while the streets of Paris were yet red with the blood of his
victims, again surrendered it to the Catholic Church ; in

24o PARIS AND ITS STORY

1885 it was reconverted to a national Walhalla for the
reception of Victor Hugo's remains.

The Pantheon has the most magnificent situation and,
except the new church of the Sacre Cceur, is the most
dominant building in Paris. Its dome, seen from nearly
every eminence commanding the city, has a certain
stately, almost noble, aspect ; but the spacious interior,
despite the efforts of the artists of the third Republic,
is chilling to the spectator. It has few historical or
religious associations, and it is devoid of human sentiment.
The choice of painters to decorate the interior was an
amazing act of official insensibility. The most discordant
artistic temperaments were let loose on the devoted building.
Puvis de Chavannes, the only painter among them who
grasped the limitation of mural art, has painted with
restraint and noble simplicity incidents in the life of St.
Genevieve, and Jean Paul Laurens is responsible for a
splendid but incongruous representation of her death. A
St. Denis, scenes in the lives of Clovis, Charlemagne, St.
Louis, and Jeanne d'Arc, by Bonnat, Blanc, Levy, Cabanel
and Lenepveu, are all excellent work of the kind so familiar
to visitors at the Salon, but are lacking in harmony and
in inspiration. The angel appearing to Jeanne d'Arc seems
to have been modelled from a figurante at the opera.

In 1 61 8 the Grande Salle of the Palais de Justice, the
finest of its kind in Europe, decorated by Fra Giocondo,
was gutted by fire, and its rich stained glass, its double
vaultings resplendent with blue and gold, its long line
of the statues of the kings of France from Pharamond
to Henry IV., were utterly destroyed. Debrosse, who
built the new Salle in 1622, left a noble and harmoni-
ous Renaissance chamber, which, again restored after the
fire of 1776, endured until its destruction by fire during
the Commune. The old palace was clung to by a
population of hucksters, whose shops and booths huddled
round the building. The Grande Salle, far different from
the present bare Salle des Pas Perdus, was itself a busy mart,

St Sulpice

PARIS UNDER LOUIS XV. 241

booksellers especially predominating, most of whom had
stations there, much as we see them to-day, round the
Odeon theatre. Every pillar had its bookseller's shop.
Verard's address was — " At the image of St. John the
Evangelist, before Notre Dame de Paris, and at the first
pillar in the Grande Salle of the Palais de Justice, before the
Chapelle where they sing the mass for Messieurs of the
Parlement." Gilles Couteau's address was — "The Two
Archers in the Rue de la Juiverie and at the third pillar
at the Palais." In the Galerie Merciere (now the Galerie
Marchande) at the top of the stairway ascending from the
Cour du Mai, lines of shops displayed fans, gloves, slippers
and other dainty articles of feminine artillery. The further
Galeries were also invaded by the traders, who were not
finally evicted until 1842. Much rebuilding and restoration
were again needed after the great fire of 1776, and the old
flight of steps of the Cour du Mai, at the foot of which
criminals were branded and books condemned by the Parle-
ment were burnt, was replaced by the present fine stairway.

The Grande Chambre (now the Tribunal de Premiere
Instance) entered from the Grande Salle, was renamed the
Salle d'Egalite by the Revolutionists, and used for the
sittings of the Revolutionary Tribunal. As the dread work
increased, a second court was opened in the Salle St. Louis,
renamed the Salle de Liberte ! Here Danton was tried,
whose puissant voice penetrated to the opposite side of
the Seine.

It was through Debrosse's restored Grande Salle that the
Girondins trooped after condemnation to the new prisoners'
chapel, built after the fire, and passed the night there,
hymning the Revolution and discoursing of the Fatherland
before they issued by the nine steps, unchanged to-day,
on the right in the Cour du Mai, to the fatal tumbrils
awaiting them.

The pseudo-classic church of St. Sulpice, begun in 1665
and not completed until 1777, is a monument of the
degraded taste of this unhappy time. At least three

242 PARIS AND ITS STORY

architects, Gamart, Levau and the Italian Servandoni, are
responsible for this monstrous pile, whose towers have
been aptly compared by Victor Hugo to two big clarionets.
The building has, however, a certain puissanle laideur>
as Michelet said of Danton, and is imposing from its very
mass, but it is dull and heavy and devoid of all charm and
imagination. Nothing exemplifies more strikingly the
mutation of taste that has taken place since the eighteenth
century than the fact that this church is the only one*
mentioned by Gibbon in the portion of his autobiography
which refers to his first visit to Paris, where it is distin-
guished as " one of the noblest structures in Paris."

CHAPTER XVII

LOUIS XVI. THE GREAT REVOLUTION— FALL OF THE

MONARCHY

Crowned vice was now succeeded by crowned folly. The
grandson of Louis XV., a well-meaning but weak and
foolish youth, and his thoughtless, pleasure-loving queen,
were confronted by state problems that would have taxed
the genius of a Richelieu in the maturity of his powers.
Injustice, misery, oppression, discontent, were clamant and
almost universal ; taxes had doubled since the death
of Louis XIV. ; there were 30,000 beggars in Paris
alone. The penal code was of inhuman ferocity ; law was
complicated, ruinous and partial and national credit so low
that loans could be obtained only against material pledges
and at interest five times as great as that paid by England.
Wealthy bishops and abbots ' and clergy, noblesse and royal
officials were wholly exempt from the main incidents of
taxation; for personal and land taxes, tithes and forced labour,
were exacted from the common people alone. No liberty of
worship, nor of thought : Protestants were condemned to the
galleys by hundreds ; booksellers met the same fate. Authors
and books were arbitrarily sent by lettres de cachet to the
Bastille. Yet in spite of all repression a generation of
daring, witty, emancipated thinkers in Paris were elaborating
a weapon of scientific, rationalistic and liberal doctrine that
cut at the very roots of the old regime. And while France
was in travail of the palingenesis of the modern world, the

1 Taine estimates the revenues of thirty-three abbots in terms of
modern values at from 140,000 to 480,000 francs (£5600 to £19,200).
Twenty-seven abbesses enjoyed revenues nearly as large.

243

244 PARIS AND ITS STORY

futile king was trifling with his locks and keys and colour-
ing maps, the queen playing at shepherdesses at Trianon or
performing before courtiers, officers and equerries the roles
of Rosina in the Barbier de Seville and of Colette in the
Devin du Village, the latter composed by the democratic
philosopher, whose Contrat Social was to prove the Gospel of
the Revolution.1 Jean Jacques Rousseau, the solitary self-
centred Swiss engraver and musician, has described for us
in words that will bear translation how an ineffaceable im-
pression of the sufferings of the people was burnt into his
memory, and the germs of an unquenchable hatred of their
oppressors were sown in his breast. Journeying on foot
between Paris and Lyons he was one day diverted from his
path by the beauty of the landscape, and wandered about, seek-
ing in vain to discover his way. " At length," he writes,
"" weary and dying of thirst and hunger I entered a peasant's
house, not a very attractive one, but the only one I could
see. I imagined that here as in Switzerland every inhabitant
of easy means would be able to offer hospitality. I entered
and begged that I might have dinner by paying for it. The
peasant handed me some skim milk and coarse barley bread,
saying that was all he had. The milk seemed delicious and
I ate the bread, straw and all, but it was not very satisfying
to one exhausted by fatigue. The man scrutinised me and
judged by my appetite the truth of the story I had told.
Suddenly, after saying that he perceived I was a good, honest
youth and not there to spy upon him he opened a trap door,
descended and returned speedily with some good wheaten
bread, a ham appetising but rather high, and a bottle of
wine which rejoiced my heart more than all the rest. He
added a good thick omelette and I enjoyed a dinner such as
those alone who travel on foot can know. When it came
to paying, his anxiety and fears again seized him ; he would
have none of my money and pushed it aside, exceedingly
troubled, nor could I imagine what he was afraid of. At

1 The score of Rousseau's opera is still preserved in the Bibliotheque
Nationale.

THE GREAT REVOLUTION 245

last he uttered with a shudder the terrible words ' commis, rats
de cave * (" assessors, cellar rats"). He made me understand
that he hid the wine because of the aides* and the bread
because of the tattles? and that he would be a ruined man if
it were supposed that he was not dying of hunger. That
man, although fairly well-off, dared not eat the bread earned
by the sweat of his brow, and could only escape ruin by pre-
tending to be as miserable as those he saw around him. I
issued forth from that house indignant as well as affected,
deploring the lot of that fair land where nature had lavished
all her gifts only to become the spoil of barbarous tax-
farmers (publicans)." The elder Mirabeau has told how he
saw a bailiff cut off the hand of a peasant woman who had
clung to her kitchen utensils when distraint was made on her
poor possessions for dues exacted by the tax-farmer. It
is related in Madame Campan's Memoirs that Louis XV.,
hunting one day in the forest of Senard, about fifteen miles
south of Paris, met a man on horseback carrying a coffin.
"Whither are you carrying that coffin?" asked the king.

" To the village of ." " Is it for a man or a woman ? "

"For a man." "What did he die of?" "Hunger,"
bluntly returned the villager. The king spurred his horse
and said no more.

cc But though the gods see clearly, they are slow
In marking when a man, despising them,
Turns from their worship to the scorn of fools."

Haifa century had elapsed since that meal in the peasant's
house and the royal colloquy with the villager in the forest
of Senard, when the Nemesis that holds sleepless vigil over
the affairs of men stirred her pinions and, like a strong
angel with glittering sword, prepared to avenge the wrongs
of a people whose rulers had outraged every law, human and
divine, by which human society is held together. King, nobles,

1 The Excise duty.

2 Personal and land-taxes paid by the humbler classes alone.

246 PARIS AND ITS STORY

and prelates had a supreme and an awful choice. They
might have led and controlled the Revolution : they chose to
oppose it, and were broken into shivers as a potter's vessel.

After the memorable cannonade at Valmy, a knot of
defeated German officers gathered in rain and wind moodily
around the circle where they durst not kindle the usual
camp-fire. In the morning the army had talked of nothing
but spitting and devouring the whole French nation : in the
evening everyone went about alone ; nobody looked at his
neighbour, or if he did, it was but to curse and swear. " At
last," says Goethe, " I was called upon to speak, for I had
been wont to enliven and amuse the troop with short say-
ings. This time I said, * From this day forth, and from
this place, a new era begins in the history of the world
and you can all say that you were present at its birth.' '
This is not the place to write the story of the French
Revolution. Those who would read the tremendous drama
may be referred to the pages of Carlyle. As a formal
history, that work of transcendent genius may be open to
criticism. Indeed to the present writer the magnificent and
solemn prosody seems to partake of the nature of a Greek
chorus — the comment of an idealised spectator, assuming
that the hearer has the drama unfolding before his eyes.
Recent researches have supplemented and modified our
knowledge. It is no longer possible to accept the more
revolting representations of the misery x of the French
peasantry as true of the whole of France, for France before
the Revolution was an assemblage of many provinces of
varying social conditions, subjected to varying administra-
tive laws. Nor can we accept Carlyle's portraiture of Robes-
pierre as history, after Louis Blanc's great work. So far
from Robespierre having been the bloodthirsty protagonist
of the later Terror, it was precisely his determination to
make an end of the more savage excesses of the extreme

1 It is difficult, however, to read the sober and irrefutable picture of
their miserable condition, given in the famous Books II. and V. of Taine's
Ancien Regime, without deep emotion.

THE GREAT REVOLUTION 247

Terrorists and to chastise their more furious pro-consuls, such
as Carrier and Fouche, that brought about his ruin. It was
men like Collot d'Herbois, Billaud Varenne and Barrere,
the bloodiest of the Terrorists, who, to save their own skins,
united to cast the odium of the later excesses on Robespierre,
and to overthrow him. During the forty-five days that pre-
ceded his withdrawal from the sittings of the Committee of
Public Safety, 577 persons were guillotined : during the
forty-five days that succeeded, 1285 went to their doom.
Of the twelve decrees that have been discovered signed by
Robespierre during the four last decades, only one had any
relation to the system of terror. But whatever defects there
be in Carlyle, his readers will at least understand the signi-
ficance of the Revolution, and why it is that the terrible, but
temporary excesses which stained its progress have been so
unduly magnified by reactionary politicians, while the
cruelties of the White Terror x are passed by.

Few of the buildings associated with the Revolution
remain at Paris. The Salle du Manege, the Feuillants and
Jacobin clubs were swept away by Napoleon's Rue de
Rivoli. But at Versailles little is changed ; the broad
Avenue de Paris, once filled with double uninterrupted files
of brilliant equipages, racing with furious speed from morn-
ing to evening along the five leagues between Versailles
and Paris, is now silent and deserted. Here, outside the
gates of the chateau were seen in 1775 that vast "multitude
in wide-spread wretchedness, with their sallow faces, squalor
and winged raggedness, presenting in legible, hieroglyphic
writing their petition of grievances, and for answer two were
hanged on a new gallows forty feet high." Here the
traveller may see at the corner of the Rue St. Martin in the
Avenue de Paris, that Hotel des Menus Plaisirs, where the
States-General sat, 5th May 1789, and where the Commons

1 After the Thermidorian reaction in 1795, ninety-seven Jacobins
were massacred by the royalists at Lyons on 5 th May ; thirty at Aix on
nth May. Similar horrors were enacted at Avignon, Aries, and
Marseilles, and at other places in the south.

248 PARIS AND ITS STORY

took the bit in their mouths by declaring themselves the
National Assembly, whether the two privileged orders sat
with them or not, and decided to set about the task of
regenerating France. Here under the elm trees on the
Paris road stood the Deputies in the drizzling rain when
they found the doors of the hall closed, by royal order,
against them, while giggling courtiers looked mockingly on.
We may trace their footsteps as they angrily paced to the
Rue St. Francois ; we may stand in the very tennis-court
whose walls echoed to the solemn oath sworn by their 700
voices never to separate until they had given a constitution
to France. Hard by, in the Rue Satory, is the church of St.
Louis, where they met the next day on finding the court
retained for a tennis-party by the king's brother, the Count
of Artois. We may return to the Menus Plaisirs, where the
king's messenger, de Breze, ordering them to disperse after
the famous royal sitting, heard Mirabeau's leonine voice
bidding him go back to his master and tell him that they
were there by the people's will, and that nothing but the
force of bayonets should drive them forth.1 We may enter
the royal apartments, the famous ante-room of the (Eil de
Boeuf with its oval ox-eyed windows, the king's bed-
chamber, and the council hall ; we may look on the foolish
faces of the later Bourbons, of the princesses his daughters
whom Louis XV. dubbed Rag, Tatter, Snip, and Pig. In
the opera-house built for Mesdames Pompadour and Du
Barry, we may recall that mad scene of 1st October, when
the officers of the bodyguard, having invited their comrades
of the Regiment of Flanders to a dinner on the stage,,
were shaking the roof with cries of il Vive le roi ! " while the
orchestra played the air, " O Richard ! 0 mon roil Funivers
fabandonne" the king suddenly appeared in the royal
box facing them, leading the queen, who bore the
Dauphin in her arms. Then was the air repeated, and
amid a scene of wild enthusiasm the royal family were

1 When de Breze reported this to the king, he seemed vexed, and
answered petulantly, " Well, if they won't go they must be left there."

THE GREAT REVOLUTION 249

rapturously acclaimed with clapping of hands and deaf-
ening shouts of " Vive le roi ! Vive la reine ! Vive le
dauphin ! " Ladies distributed white cockades, the Bour-
bon colour, and the tricolor was trodden underfoot.
Intoxicated soldiers danced under the king's balcony, and
next morning it was discussed at a breakfast given at the
hotel of the bodyguards whether they should march against
the National Assembly. And this within three months of
the taking of the Bastille and when Paris was in the grip of
famine !

The news of the mad orgy goaded the people to
fury, and on 5th October an insurrectionary army of
10,000 women advanced on Versailles and encamped
on the vast open space in front of the gates. As we
stand in the Cour de Marbre, we may lift our eyes to
that balcony of the first floor where, on 6th October,
Marie Antoinette stood bravely forth, holding her two chil-
dren by the hand and confronting the vociferating people.
At their cry, " No children ! " she gently pushed the little
Dauphin and his sister back into the room, and with folded
arms, for she at least lacked not courage, gazed calmly
at them in regal dignity, to be answered by shouts of
li Vive la reine ! " It was the last time she trod the palace
of Versailles. The same day king, queen and children
went their way amid that strange procession to Paris,
the women crying : " We need not die of hunger now.
Here are the baker, the baker's wife and the baker's
boy." The palace of the Tuileries was hastily prepared
for their reception and for the first time Louis XVI.
entered its gates.

Camille Desmoulins has described in his Memoirs how
on nth July he was lifted on a table in front of the
Cafe Foy, in the garden of the Palais Royal, and
delivered that short but pregnant oration which pre-
ceded the capture of the Bastille on the 14th, warning
the people that a St. Bartholomew of patriots was con-
templated, and that the Swiss and German troops in the

250

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Champ de Mars were ready for the butchery. As the
crowd rushed to the Hotel de Ville, shouting " To arms ! "
they were charged by the Prince de Lambesc at the head of
a German regiment, and the first blood of the Revolution
in Paris was shed.

The Bastille, like the monarchy, was the victim of
its past sins. That grisly fortress, with the jaws of its
cannon opening on the most populous quarter of
Paris, and its sinister memories of the Man in the
Iron Mask,1 embodied in the popular mind all that was
hateful in the old regime, though it had long ceased
to be more than occasionally used as a state prison. If
we would restore its aspect we must imagine the
houses at the ends of the Rue St. Antoine and the
Boulevard Henri IV. away and the huge mass erect on
their site and on the lines marked in white stone on
the present Place de la Bastille. A great portal, always
open by day, yawned on the Rue St. Antoine and gave
access to the first quadrangle which was lined with shops :
then came a second gate, with entrances for carriages
and for foot passengers, each with its drawbridge. Beyond
these a second quadrangle was entered, to the right of
which stood the Governor's house and an armoury.
Another double portal gave entrance across the old fosse
once fed by the waters of the Seine, to the prison fortress
itself, with its eight tall blackened towers and its crenelated
ramparts.

The Bastille, first used in Richelieu's time as a per-
manent state prison, was filled under Louis XIV. with
Jansenists and Protestants, who were thus separated from
the prisoners of the common jails ; and, later, under Louis
XV. by a whole population of obnoxious pamphleteers

1 A whole library has been written concerning the identity of this
famous prisoner. There is little doubt that the mask was of velvet and
not of iron, and that the mysterious captive who died on 19th November
1703 in the Bastille was Count Mattioli of Bologna, who was secretly
arrested for having betrayed the confidence of Louis XIV.

THE BASTILLE 251

and champions of philosophy. Books as well as their
authors were incarcerated, and released when considered no
longer dangerous ; the tomes of famous Encyclopedic spent
some years there. From the opening of the eighteenth
century the horrible, dark and damp dungeons, half under-
ground and sometimes flooded, formerly inhabited by the
lowest type of criminals, were reserved as temporary cells
for insubordinate prisoners, and since the accession of Louis
XVI. they were no more used. The Bastille during the
reigns of the three later Louis was the most comfortable
prison in Paris, and detention there rather in the other
prisons was often sought for and granted as a favour ;
the prisoners might furnish their rooms, have their own
libraries and food. In the middle of the seventeenth
century certain rooms were furnished at the king's ex-
pense for those who were without means. The rooms
were warmed, the prisoners well fed, and sums varying
from three francs to thirty-five francs per day, according
to condition,1 were allotted for their maintenance. A
considerable amount of personal liberty was allowed to
many and indemnities were in later years paid to those
who had been unjustly detained. But a prison where
men are confined indefinitely without trial and at a king's
arbitrary pleasure is none the less intolerable, however
its bars be gilded. Prisoners were sometimes forgotten,
and letters are extant from Louvois and other ministers,
asking the governor to report how many years certain
prisoners had been detained, and if he remembered what
they were charged with. In Louis XIV. 's reign 2228
persons were incarcerated there ; in Louis XV.'s, 2567.
From the accession of Louis XVI. to the destruction of
the prison the number had fallen to 289. Seven were
found there when the fortress was captured — four accused
of forgery, two insane ; one, the Count of Solages, ac-
cused of a monstrous crime, was detained there to spare

1 Only five francs were allowed for a bourgeois, a man of letters was
granted ten ; a Marshal of France obtained the maximum.

252 PARIS AND ITS STORY

the feelings of his family. The Bastille, some time before
its fall, was already under sentence of demolition, and
various schemes for its disposal were before the court.
One project was to destroy seven of the towers, leaving
the eighth standing in a dilapidated state. On the site of
the seven a pedestal formed of chains and bolts from the
dungeons and gates was to bear a statue of Louis XVI.
in the attitude of a liberator, pointing with outstretched
hand towards the remaining tower in ruins. But Louis
XVI. was always too late, and the Place de la Bastille,
with its column raised to those who fell in the Revolution
of July, 1830, now recalls the second and final triumph
of the people over the Bourbon kings. Some stones
of the Bastille were, however, built into the new Pont Louis
Seize, subsequently called Pont de la Revolution and
now known as Pont de la Concorde : others were sold
to speculators and were retailed at prices so high that
people complained that Bastille stones were as dear as
the best butcher's meat. Models of the Bastille, dominoes,
inkstands, boxes and toys of all kinds were made of the
material and had a ready sale all over France.

Far to the west and on the opposite side of the Sein<
is the immense area of the Champ de Mars, where, on th(
anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, was enacted the
fairest scene of the Revolution. The whole population
of Paris, with their marvellous instinct of order an<
co-operation, spontaneously set to work to dig the vast
amphitheatre which was to accommodate the 100,000
representatives of France, and 400,000 spectators, all
united in an outburst of fraternal love and hope
to swear allegiance to the new Constitution before the
altar of the Fatherland. The king had not yet lost
the affection of his people. As he came to view the
marvellous scene an improvised bodyguard of excavators,
bearing spades, escorted him about. When he was swearing
the oath to the Constitution, the queen, standing on a
balcony of the Ecole militaire, lifted up the dauphin as if to

FALL OF THE MONARCHY 253

associate him in his father's pledge. Suddenly the rain
which had marred the great festival ceased, the sun burst
forth and flooded in a splendour of light, the altar, Bishop
Talleyrand, his four hundred clergy, and the king with
upraised hand. The solemn music of the Te Deum mingled
with the wild pasan of joy and enthusiasm that burst from
half a million throats.

The unconscionable folly, the feeble-minded vacillation
and miserable trickery by which this magnificent popularity
was muddled away is one of the saddest tragedies in the
stories of kings. The people, with unerring instinct, had
fixed on the queen as one of the chief obstacles to what might
have been a peaceful revolution. Neither Marie Antoinette
nor Louis Capet comprehended the tremendous significance
of the forces they were playing with — the resolute and
invincible determination of a people of twenty-six millions
to emancipate itself from the accumulated and intolerable
wrongs of centuries. The despatches and opinions of
American ambassadors during this period are of inestimable
value. The democratic Thomas Jefferson, reviewing in later
years the course of events, declared that had there been no
queen there would have been no revolution. Governor
Morris, whose anti-revolutionary and conservative leanings
made him the friend and confidant of the royal family,
writes to Washington on January 1790: "If only the
reigning prince were not the small beer character he is,
and even only tolerably watchful of events, he would regain
his authority," but "what would you have,,, he continues
scornfully, "from a creature who, in his situation, eats,
drinks and sleep well, and laughs, and is as merry a grig
as lives. He must float along on the current of events
and is absolutely a cypher." But the court would not
forego its crooked ways. " The queen is even more
imprudent/' Morris writes in 1791, "and the whole court is
given up to petty intrigues worthy only of footmen and
chambermaids." Moreover, in its amazing ineptitude,
the monarchy had already toyed with republicanism by

254 PARIS AND ITS STORY

lending active military support to the revolutionists in
America, at a cost to the already over-burdened treasury
of 1,200,000,000 livres.

The American ambassador, Benjamin Franklin, was
crowned at court with laurel as the apostle of liberty,
and in the very palace of Versailles medallions of Frankli]
were sold, bearing the inscription : " Eripui coelo fultnet
sceptrumque tyrannis " ("I have snatched the lightning froi
heaven and the sceptre from tyrants ."). The revolutionary
song, Qa ira, ga ira ("That will go, that will go"), owe<
its origin to Franklin's invariable response to inquiries
to the progress of the American revolutionary movement.
There was explosive material enough in France to mak<
playing with celestial fire perilous, and while the politia
atmosphere was heavy with the threatening change,
thousands of French soldiers returned saturated witl
enthusiasm and sympathy for the American revolution.
Already before the Feast of the Federation the queen hac
been in secret correspondence with the emigrh at Turii
and at Coblenz who were conspiring to throttle th<
nascent liberty of France. Plots had been hatched t<
carry off the royal family. Madame Campan relates that
the queen made her read a confidential letter from th<
Empress Catherine of Russia, concluding with these words :
" Kings ought to proceed in their career undisturbed by
the cries of the people, as the moon pursues her course
unimpeded by the howling of dogs." Mirabeau was already
in the pay of the monarchy ; soon after the return of
the court to St. Cloud the queen had a secret interview
with him in the park, and boasted to Madame Campan how
she had flattered the great tribune.

As early as December 1790 the court had been in
secret communication with the foreigner. Louis' brother,
the Count of Artois (afterwards Charles X.), with the
queen's and king's approval, had made a secret treaty with
the house of Hapsburg, the hereditary enemy of France,
by which the sovereigns of Austria, Prussia and Spain

FALL OF THE MONARCHY 255

agreed to cross the frontier at a given signal, and close on
France with an army a hundred thousand strong. It was
an act of impious treachery, and the beginning of the doom
of the French monarchy. Yet if but some glimmer of
intelligence and courage had characterised the preparations
for the flight of the royal family to join the armed forces
waiting to receive them near the frontier, their lives at
least had been saved.

The incidents of the four months' "secret" preparations
to leave the Tuileries as described by Madame Campan read
like scenes in a comic opera. The disguised purchases of
elaborate wardrobes of underlinen and gowns ; the making
of a dressing-case of " enormous size, fitted with many and
various articles from a warming-pan to a silver porringer " ;
the packing of the diamonds ; the building of the new
berline, that huge, lumbering Noah's ark which was to
bear them swiftly away ! The story of the pretended flight
of the Russian baroness and her family ; the start delayed by
the queen turning into the Carrousel instead of into the Rue
de l'Echelle, where the king and her children were awaiting
her in the glass coach ; the colossal folly of the whole busi-
ness has been told by Carlyle in one of the most dramatic
chapters in history.

The Assembly declared on hearing of Louis' flight that
the government of the country was unaffected and that the
executive power remained in the hand of the ministers.
After voting a levy of three hundred thousand National
Guards to meet the threatened invasion, they passed
calmly to the discussion of the new Penal Code.

The king returned to Paris through an immense and
silent multitude. " Whoever applauds the king," said placards
in the street, " shall be thrashed ; whoever insults him, hung."
The idea of a republic as a practical issue of the situation
was now for the first time put forward by the extremists,
but met with little sympathy, and a Republican demonstra-
tion in the Champ du Mars was suppressed by the Assembly
by martial law at the cost of many lives. Owing to the

256 PARIS AND ITS STORY

aversion felt by Marie Antoinette to Lafayette, who
with affectionate loyalty more than once had risked his
popularity and life to serve the crown, the court made the
fatal mistake of opposing his election to the mayoralty of
Paris and paved the way for the triumph of Petion and of
the Dantonists. To the famous manifesto of Pilnitz by the
Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia in August
1 79 1, calling on the sovereigns of Europe to support them
in an armed intervention to restore the rights and pre-
rogatives of the French king, the Assembly replied that,
while they must regard as enemies those who tolerated
hostile preparations against France, they offered good
neighbourship, the amity of a free and puissant country
to the nations of Europe. They desired no con-
quests and would respect the laws and constitutions of
others if they evinced the same respect towards those of
France : if the German princes favoured military pre-
parations directed against the French', the French would
carry among them, not fire and sword, but liberty. "Lei
them ponder on the consequences of an awakening of the nations."

Meanwhile the Assembly renewed some laws of the
ancien regime against emigres, who were thnatened with
the confiscation of their property without prejudice to th(
rights of their wives and children and lawful creditors ii
they did not return within a definite time. The foreign
monarchies reasserted the lawfulness of their acts and wai
became inevitable.

At the news of the first defeats the king added to his
amazing tale of follies by vetoing the formation of a camp
near Paris and by turning a deaf ear to the earnest entreaties
of the brave, loyal and sagacious Dumouriez and accepting
his resignation. He sent a secret agent with confidential
instructions to the emigres and the coalesced monarchies, and
when Lafayette, after the first demonstration against the
Tuileries, hastened to Paris and strove to stir the ill-fated
king to resolute action he was coldly received, and with
bitterness in his heart returned to his army at the frontier.

FALL OF THE MONARCHY 257

The ill-starred proclamation x of the Duke of Brunswick com-
pleted the destruction of the monarchy. While the French
were smarting under defeat and stung by the knowledge that
their natural defender, the king, was leagued with their
enemies, this foreign commander warned a high-spirited and
gallant nation that he was come to restore Louis XVI. to
his authority, and threatened to treat as rebellious any town
that opposed his march, to shoot all persons taken with
arms in their hands, and in the event of any insult being
offered to the royal family to take exemplary and
memorable vengeance by delivering up the city of Paris
to military execution and complete demolition. When the
proclamation reached Paris at the end of July 1792, it
sounded the death knell of the king and the triumph of
the Republicans. Paris was now to become, in Goethe's
phrase, the centre of the ''world whirlwind" — a storm
centre launching forth thunderbolts of terror. After the
Assembly had twice refused to bring ' the king to trial,
the extremists were able to organise and direct an irresist-
ible wave of popular indignation towards the Tuileries, and
on 10th August the palace was stormed. While a band
of brave and devoted Swiss guards was being cut to pieces
in hundreds, the feeble and futile king had fled to the
Assembly and was sitting safely with his wife and children
in a box behind the president's chair. Thorwaldsen's
monument to the fallen Swiss, carved in the granite rock
at Lucerne, recalls that piteous scene at the Tuileries when
these poor Republican mercenaries, true to their salt, stood
faithful unto death in defence of an empty palace.

No' room for compromise now. The printed trial of
Charles I. was everywhere sold and read. " This," people
said, " was how the English dealt with an impossible king
and became a free nation." Old and new were in death-
grapple, and the lives of many victims, for the people lost

1 It was composed by one of the emigres, M. de Limon, approved by
the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia, and signed, against his
better judgment, by the Duke of Brunswick.

258 PARIS AND ITS STORY

heavily,1 had sealed the cause of the Revolution with a
bloody consecration. Unhappily, the city of Paris, like all
great towns in times of scarcity (and since 1780 scarcity had
become almost permanent), had been invaded by numbers of
starving vagabonds — the dregs that always rise to the
surface in periods of political convulsion, ready for any
villainy. When news came of the capture of Verdun,
of the indecent joy of the courtiers, and that the road to
Paris was open to the avenging army of Prussians, the
horrors of the Armagnac massacres were renewed during
four September days at the prisons of Paris, while the
revolutionary ministry and the Assembly averted their
gaze and, to their everlasting shame, abdicated their powers.
The September massacres were the application by a minority
of desperate and savage revolutionists of the ultima ratio
of kings to a desperate situation. The tragedy of King
Louis is the tragedy of a feeble prince called to rule in
tremendous crisis where weakness and well-meaning foil;
are the fatalest of crimes. How pathetic are the incidents
of the penalty of wrong ! The dreadful heritage of the sins
of the later French monarchy had fallen on the head of on(
of the best-intentioned and least guilty, though most foolisl
and feeblest of men.

On 2 1st September 1792 royalty was formalb
abolished, and on the 22nd, when "the equinoctional sui
marked the equality of day and night in the heavens," civil
equality was proclaimed by the representatives of France.

1 The numbers have been variously estimated jfrom 100 to 50CX
killed on the popular side.

CHAPTER XVIII

EXECUTION OF THE KING PARIS UNDER THE FIRST REPUBLIC

THE TERROR NAPOLEON REVOLUTIONARY AND

MODERN PARIS

An inscription opposite No. 230 Rue de Rivoli indicates
the site of the old Salle du Manege, or Riding School, of
the Tuileries, where the destinies of modern France were
debated. Three Assemblies — the Constituent, the Legis-
lative and the prodigious National Convention — filled its
long, poorly-furnished amphitheatre, decorated with the
tattered flags captured from the Prussians and Austrians,
from 7th November 1789 to 9th May 1795.

There, on Wednesday, 16th January 1793, began
the solemn judgment of Louis XVI. by 721 representatives
of the people of France. The sitting opened at ten o'clock
in the morning, but not till eight in the evening did the pro-
cession of deputies begin, as the roll was called, to ascend the
tribune, and utter their word of doom. All that long winter's
night, and all the ensuing short winter's day, the fate of a king
trembled in the balance as the judgment, death — banish-
ment : banishment — death, with awful alternation echoed
through the hall. Amid the speeches of the deputies was
heard the chatter of fashionable women in the boxes, prick-
ing with pins on cards the votes for and against death, and
eating ices and oranges brought to them by friendly
deputies. Above, in the public tribunes, sat women of the
people, greeting the words of the deputies with coarse
gibes. Betting went on outside. At every entrance cries
hoarse and shrill were heard of hawkers selling " The
Trial of Charles I." Time-serving Philip Egaliti, Duke of
Orleans, voted la mort, but failed to save his skin. An
Englishman was there — Thomas Paine, author of the

259

26o PARIS AND ITS STORY

Rights of Man and deputy for Calais. His voice was
raised for clemency, for temporary detention, and banishment
after the peace. " My vote is that of Paine," cried a member,
iC his authority is final for me." One deputy was carried
from a sick-bed to cast his vote in the scale of mercy ;
others slumbering on the benches were awakened and gave
their votes of death between two yawns. At length, by
eight o'clock on the evening of the 1 7th, exactly twenty-four
hours after the voting began, the President rose to read the
result. <CA silence most august and terrible reigns in the
Assembly as President Vergniaud rises and pronounces
the sentence c Death ' in the name of the French nation."
The details of the voting as given in the Journal de Perlet,
1 8th January 1793, are as follows : "Of the 745 members
one had died, six were sick, two absent without cause,
eleven absent on commission, four abstained from voting.
The absolute majority was therefore 361. Three hundrec
and sixty-six voted for death, three hundred and nineteen for
detention and banishment, two for the galleys, twenty-four
for death with various reservations, eight for death with sta]
of execution until after the peace, two for delay with power
of commutation." Three Protestant ministers and eighteen
Catholic priests voted for death. Louis' defenders were
there and asked to be heard : they were admitted to th<
honours of the sitting. At eleven o'clock the weary business
of thirty-seven hours was ended, only, however, to be re-
sumed the next morning, for yet another vote must decide
between delay or summary execution. Again the voice of
Paine was heard pleading for mercy, but without avail. At
three o'clock on Sunday morning the final voting was over.
Six hundred and ninety members were present, of whom thre(
hundred and eighty voted for death within twenty-four hours.
To the guillotine on the fatal Place de la Revolution,
formerly Place Louis XV., the very scene of a terrible panic
at his wedding festivities which cost the lives of hundreds
of sightseers, the sixteenth Louis of France was led on the
morning of 21st January 1793. As he turned to address

Eiffel Tower.

EXECUTION OF THE KING 261

the people, Santerre ordered the drums to beat — it was the
echo of the drums reverberating through history which had
smothered the cries of the Protestant martyrs sent to the
scaffold by the fourteenth Louis a century before. This was the
beginning of that annee terrible, into which was crowded the
most stupendous struggle in modern history. Threatened
by the monarchies of Europe, who were united in an unholy
crusade to crush the Revolution, France, in the tremendous
words of Danton., flung to the coalesced kings the head of a
king as gage of battle. A colossal energy, an unquenchable
devotion were evoked by the supreme crisis, and directed by
a committee of nine inexperienced young civilians, sitting in
a room of the Tuileries at Paris, to whom later Carnot, an
engineer officer, was added. u The whole Republic," they
proclaimed, " is a great besieged city : let France be a vast
camp. Every age is called to defend the liberty of the
Fatherland. The young men will fight : the married will
*brge arms. Women will make clothes and tents : children
will tear old linen for lint. Old men shall be carried to the
market-place to inflame the courage of all." In twenty-four
hours 60,000 men were enrolled ; in two months fourteen
armies organised. Saltpetre for powder failed ; it was torn
from the bowels of the earth. Steel, too, and bronze were
lacking : iron railings were transmuted into swords, and
church bells and royal statues into cannon. Paris became a
vast armourer's shop. Smithy fires in hundreds roared and
anvils clanged in the open places — one hundred and forty
at the Invalides, fifty- four at the Luxembourg. The
women sang as they worked : —

" Cousons, filons, cousons bien,
Via des habits de notre fabrique
Pour Thiver qui vient.
Soldats de la Patrie
Vous ne manquerez de rien." I

1 " Sew we, spin we, sew we well, behold the coats we have made
for the winter that is coming. Soldiers of the Fatherland, ye shall want
for nothing."

262 PARIS AND ITS STORY

The smiths chanted to the rhythm of their strokes : —
<c Forgeons, forgeons, forgeons bien ! "

On the new standards waving in the breeze ran the
legend : " The French people risen against Tyrants."
Toulon was in the hands of the English ; Lyons in
revolt. With enemies in her camp, with one arm tied
by the insurrection in La Vendee, the Revolution
hurled her ragged and despised sansculottes, shod in
pasteboard or straw bands, mantled in a piece of matting
skewered above their shoulders, against her enemies.
How vain is the wisdom of the great ! Burke thought
that the Revolution had expunged France in a political
sense out of the system of Europe, and his opinion was
shared by every statesman in Europe, but before the year
closed the proud and magnificently accoutred armies of
kings were scattered over the borders, civil war was crushed
at home, the Revolution triumphant. The Convention fixed
the day of victory. It ordered its generals to end the
war of La Vendee by 2oth, October: by the 17th four
defeats had been inflicted on the insurgents, and 60,000
men, women and children were driven over the Loire. Soon
the " dwarfish, ragged sansculottes, the small, black-looking
Marseillaise dressed in rags of every colour," whom Goethe
saw tramping out of Mayence "as if the goblin king had
opened his mountains and sent forth his lively host of
dwarfs," had forced Prussia, the arch-champion of monarchy,
to make peace and leave its Rhine provinces in the hands of
regicides. Meanwhile terror reigned in Paris. In the
frenzy of mortal strife the Revolution struck out blindly and
cut down friend as well as foe ; the innocent with the guilty.
At least the guillotine fell swiftly and mercifully. Gone
were the days of the wheel, the rack, the boiling lead and
the stake. Under the ancien regime the torture of accused
persons was one of the sights shown to foreigners in Paris.
Evelyn, when visiting the city in 1651, was taken to see the
torture of an alleged thief in the Chatelet, who was " wracked

PARIS UNDER THE FIRST REPUBLIC 263

in an extraordinary manner, so that they severed the fellow's
joints in miserable sort." Then, failing to extort a confes-
sion, " they increased the extension and torture, and then
placing a home in his mouth, such as they drench horses
with, poured two buckets of water down, so that it prodigi-
ously swelled him." There was another " malefactor " to be
dealt with, but the traveller had seen enough, and he leaves
reflecting that it represented to him " the intolerable suffer-
ings which our Blessed Saviour must needs undergo when
His body was hanging with all its weight upon the nailes
of the Crosse."

Too much prominence has been given by historians to
the dramatic and violent activities of the men of '93, to the
exclusion of acts of peaceful and constructive statesmanship.
Among the 11,210 decrees issued by the National Con-
vention in Paris from September '92 to October '95,
the following are cited by Louis Blanc : —

That maisons nationales be opened where children should be
fed, housed and taught gratuitously.

That primary schools be established throughout the Republic,
and that three progressive stages of education be estab-
lished embracing all that a man and a citizen should
know.

That each Department should possess a Central School.

That a Normal School at Paris should teach the art of
teaching.

That special schools be established for the study of the
sciences, Oriental languages, the veterinary art, rural
economy and antiquities.

It appointed a Commission to examine and report upon
works relating to the moral and physical education of
children and opened a competition for the composing of
elementary books.

It systematised the teaching of the French language.

It ordered an inventory to be taken of collections of
works of art.

264

PARIS AND ITS STORY

It fulminated against the degradation of public monu-
ments.

It founded national rewards for great discoveries.

It gave lavish help to artists and savants.

It offered a prize for the perfecting of the art
spinning.

It ordered the publication of a translation of Bacon's
works found among the papers of one of the condemned on
the 9th of Thermidor.

It decided that scientific voyages should be organised al
the expense of the State, and that the Republic be chargec
with the maintenance of artists sent to Rome.

It decreed the adoption, began the discussion, and vote<
the most important articles of the civil code.

It inaugurated the telegraph and the decimal system,
established the uniformity of weights and measures, the bureai
of longitudes, reformed the calendar, instituted the Gran<
Livre, increased and completed the Museum of Natural His-
tory, opened the Museum of the Louvre, created th(
Conservatoire of the Arts and Crafts, the Conservatoire 01
Music, the Polytechnic School and the Institute.

The truly great work of education initiated by the Con-
vention can only be appreciated by recalling its previous
condition. The old colleges were utterly neglected. L
such as survived, little more than Latin (and that inefficiently'
and a few scraps of history were taught. The natural
sciences were wholly neglected ; the children of the nob-
lesse were educated by private tutors, and only in show]
accomplishments. Madame Campan relates that the Princess
Louise had not even mastered the alphabet at twelve years
of age.

The Convention abolished negro slavery in the Frencl
colonies, and Wilberforce reminded a hostile House 01
Commons that infidel and anarchic France had given exampl<
to Christian England in the work of emancipation. In 1793
it was reported to the Convention that the aged Goldoni had
been in receipt of a pension from the ancien regime and was

NAPOLEON 265

now dependent on the slender resources of a compassionate
nephew : the Convention at once decreed as an act of justice
and beneficence that the pension of 4000 livres should be re-
newed, and all arrears paid up. This is but one of many acts
of grace and succour among the records of the Convention.
The same day, 7th February, an artist of Toulouse was
awarded 3000 livres. It is curious to read in the journals
of early '93 how fully assured the revolutionists were of the
sympathy of England, " that proud and generous nation,
whose name alone, like that of Rome, evokes ideas of liberty
and independence," their appeals to the English nation,
whose example they had followed, not to allow the quarrels
of kings to embroil them in a conflict fatal to humanity.
At the meetings of the Jacobins, flags of England, America
and France were unfurled, with cries of " Vivent les trois
peuples libres."

The closing months of '95 were sped with those whiffs of
grape shot from the Pont Royal and the Rue St. Honore,
that shattered the last attempt, this time by the Royalists, at
government by insurrection. The Convention closed its
stupendous career, and five Directors of the Republic met in
a room furnished with an old table, a sheet of paper and an
ink-bottle, and set about organising France for a normal and
progressive national life. But Europe had by her fatuous
interference with the internal affairs of France sown dragons*
teeth indeed. A nation of armed men had sprung forth,
nursing hatred of monarchy and habituated to victory.
" Eky bien, mes enfants" cried a French general before
an engagement when provisions were wanting to afford a
meal for his troops, " we will breakfast after the victory."
But militarism invariably ends in autocracy. The author
of those whiffs of grape shot was appointed in 1796
Commander-in-Chief of the army of Italy, and a new
and sinister complexion was given to the policy of the Re-
public. "Soldiers," cries Napoleon, "you are half-starved
and almost naked ; the Government owes you much
but can do nothing for you. Your patience, your courage

266 PARIS AND ITS STORY

do you honour, but win, for you neither glory nor profit.
I am about to lead you into the most fertile plains of
the world ; you will find there great cities and rich
provinces ; there you will reap honour, glory and riches.
Soldiers of Italy, will you lack courage ? " This frank
appeal to the baser motives that sway men's minds, this open
avowal of a personal ambition, was the beginning of the end of
Jacobinism in France. Soon the wealth of Italy streamed
into the bare coffers of the Directory : — 20,000,000 of francs
from Lombardy, 12,000,000 from Parma and Modena,
35,000,000 from the Papal States, an equally large sum from
Tuscany ; one hundred finest horses of Lombardy to the
five Directors, " to replace the sorry nags that now draw
your carriages " ; convoys of priceless manuscripts and
sculpture and pictures to adorn the galleries of Paris. So
persistent were these raids on the collections of art in Italy
that Napoleon is known there to this day as il gran ladrone.
The chief duty of the new French officials in Italy, said
Lucien Bonaparte, is to supervise the packing of pictures
and statues for Paris. No less than 5233 of these works of
art were confiscated by the Allies in 1815, and returned
to their former owners.

In less than a decade the rusty old stage properties and
the baubles of monarchy were furbished anew, sacred oil
from the little phial of Rheims anointed the brow of a new
dynast, and a Roman Pontiff blessed the crown with which
a once poor, pensioned, disaffected Corsican patriot crowned
himself lord of France in Notre Dame. The old pomposities
of a court came strutting back to their places : — Arch
Chancellors, Grand Electors, Constables, Grand Almoners,
Grand Chamberlains, Grand Marshals of the Palace, Masters
of the Horse, Masters of the Hounds, Madame Mere and a
bevy of Imperial Highnesses with their ladies-in-waiting.
Only one thing was wanting, as a Jacobin bitterly remarked
— the million of men who were slain to end all that mummery.
The fascinating story of how this amazing transformation
was effected cannot be told here. The magician who

NAPOLEON 267

wrought it was possessed of a soaring, visionary imagina-
tion, of a mental instrument of incomparable force and
efficiency, of an iron will, a prodigious intellectual activity,
and a piercing insight into the conditions of material success,
rarely, if ever before, united in the same degree in one man.
Napoleon Bonaparte was of ancient, patrician Florentine
blood, and perchance the descendant of one of those of
Fiesole —

"In cui riviva la sementa santa
Di quei Romani che vi rimaser quando
Fu fatto il nido di malizia tanta." 1

He cherished a particular affection for Italy, and, so far as
his personal aims allowed, treated her generously. His
descent into Lombardy awakened the slumbering sense of
Italian nationality. In more senses than one, says Mr
Bolton King, the historian of Italian unity, Napoleon was
the founder of modern Italy.

The reason of Napoleon's success in France is not far to
seek. Two streams of effort are clearly traceable through the
Revolution. The earlier thinkers, such as Montesquieu,
Voltaire, D'Alembert, Diderot and the Encyclopedists,
whose admiration for England was unbounded, aimed at
reforming the rotten state of France on the basis of the
English parliamentary and monarchical system. It was a
middle-class movement for the assertion of its interests in
the state and for political freedom. The aim of the Jacobin
minority, inspired by the doctrines of the Contrat Social of
Rousseau, was to found a democratic state based on the
principle of the sovereignty of the people. If the French
crown and the monarchies of Europe had allowed the
peaceful evolution of national tendencies, the Constitutional
reformers would have triumphed, but in their folly they
tried to sweep back the tide, with the result we have seen.

1 Inferno. XV. 76-78. — " In whom lives again the seed of those Romans
who remained there when the nest (Florence) of so much wickedness
was made."

268 PARIS AND ITS STORY

For when everything is put to the touch, when victory is
the price of self-sacrifice, it is the idealist who comes to the
front. As the nineteenth century prophet Mazzini taught,
men will lay down their lives for principles but not for
interests.

Let us not forget that it was the Jacobin minority which
saved the people of France. Led astray by their old guides,
abandoned in a dark and trackless waste, their heads girt
with horror, menaced by destruction on every side, they
groped, wandering hither and thither seeking an outlet in
vain. At length a voice was heard, confident, thrilling as a
trumpet call : " Lo this is the way ! follow, and ye shall
emerge and conquer ! " It may not have been the best way,
but it was a way and they followed.

It is easy enough to pour scorn on the Contrat Social
as a political philosophy, but an ideal, a faith, a dogma are
necessary to evoke enthusiasm, the contempt of material
things and of death itself. These the Contrat Social gave.
Its consuming passion for social justice, its ideal of a state
founded on the sovereignty of the people became th<
gospel of the time. Men and women conned its pages b]
heart and slept with the book under their pillows.
Napoleon himself in his early Jacobin days was saturated wit!
its doctrines, and in later times astutely used its phrases as
shibboleths to cloak his acts of despotism. But in thai
terrible revolutionary decade the Jacobins had spent then
lives and their energies. A profound weariness of the lon^
and severe tension, and a yearning for a return to orderly
civil life came over men's minds. The masses were still
sincerely attached to the Catholic faith ; the middle-classes
hailed with relief the advent of the strong man who proved
himself able to crush faction ; the peasants were won by
champion of the Revolution who made impossible the retun
of the evil days of the ancien regime and guaranteed them th<
possession of the confiscated emigre and ecclesiastical lands :
the army idolised the great captain who promised them
glory and profit ; the Church rallied to an autocrat who

NAPOLEON 269

restored the hierarchy. Moreover, the brilliancy of
Napoleon's military genius was balanced by an all-embracing
political sagacity. The chief administrative decrees of the
Convention, especially those relating to education and the
civil and penal codes, were welded into form by ceaseless
energy. Everything he touched was indeed degraded from
the Republican ideal, but he drove things through and
imposed his own superhuman activity into his subordinates,
and became one of the chief builders of modern France.
" The gigantic entered into our very habits of thought,"
said one of his ministers. But his efforts to maintain the
stupendous twenty years' duel with the combined forces of
England and the continental monarchies, and his own over-
weening ambition, broke him at length, and he fell to fret
away his life caged in a lonely island in mid-Atlantic.

The new ideas were none the less revolutionary of
social life. The salon, that eminently French institution,
soon felt their power. The charming irresponsible gaiety
and frivolity of the old regime gave place to more
serious preoccupation with political movements. The
fusing power of Rousseau's genius had melted all hearts ;
the solvent wit of Voltaire and the precise science of
the Encyclopedists were a potent force even among the
courtiers themselves. The centre of social life shifted
from Versailles to Paris and the salons gained what the
court lost. Fine ladies had the latest pamphlet of Sieyes
read to them at their toilette, and maids caught up
the new phrases from their mistresses' lips. Did a young
gallant enter a salon excusing himself for being late by
saying, " I have just been proposing a motion at the
club," every fair eye sparkled with interest. A deputy
was a social lion, and a box for the National Assembly
exchanged for one at the opera at a premium of six
livres. Speeches were rehearsed at the salons and action
determined. Chief of the hostesses was Madame l Necker :
at her crowded receptions might be seen Abb6 Sieyes, the
1 Mdlle. Curchod, for whom Gibbon "sighed as a lover."

270

PARIS AND ITS STORY

architect of Constitutions ; Condorcet, the philosopher
Talleyrand, the patriotic bishop ; Madame de Stael, witl
her strong, coarse face and masculine voice and gestures
More intimate were the Tuesday suppers at which
dozen chosen guests held earnest communion. Madame de
Beauharnais was noted for her excellent table, and hei
Tuesday and Thursday dinners : at her rooms the
masters of literature and music had been wont to meet.
Now came Buffon the naturalist ; Bailly of Tennis Court
oath fame ; Clootz, the friend of humanity. The widow oi
Helvetius, with her many memories of Franklin, welcomec
Volney, author of the Ruins of Empires, and Chamfort, the
candid critic of Academicians. At the salon of Madame
Pancroute, Barrere, the glib orator of the Revolution, was the
chief figure.

Julie Talma was famed for her literary and artistic circle.
Here Marie Joseph Chenier, the revolutionary dramati<
poet of the Comedie Francaise, declaimed his couplet!
Here came Vergniaud, the eloquent chief of the ill-fate<
Gironde ; Greuze, the painter ; Roland, the stern anc
minatory minister, who spoke bitter words, composed by hi*
wife, to the king ; Lavoisier, the chemist, who begged that
the axe might be stayed while he completed some experi-
ments, and was told that the Republic had no need oi
chemists. Madame du DefTand, whose hotel in the Rue des
Quatre Fils still exists, welcomed Voltaire, D'Alembert,
Montesquieu and the Encyclopedists.

In the street, the great open-air salon of the people, was
a feverish going to and fro. Here were the tub-thumpers
of the Revolution holding forth at every public place ; the
strident voices of ballad-singers at the street corners ;
hawkers of the latest pamphlets hot from the Quai des
Augustins ; the sellers of journals crying the Pere Duchesne,
UAmi du Peupk, the Jean Bart, the Vieux Cordelier.
Crowds gathered round Bassett's famous shop for cari-
cature at the corner of the Rue St. Jacques and the
Rue des Mathurins. The walls of Paris were a mass

REVOLUTIONARY PARIS 271

of variegated placards and proclamations. The charming
signs of the old regime the Pomme rouge, the Rose
Blanche, the Ami du Cceur, the Gracieuse, the Trois
Fleurs-de-lys couronnees gave place to the "Necker,"
the " National Assembly," the iC Tiers," the " Constitu-
tion " — these, too, soon to be effaced by more Republican
appellations. For on the abolition of the monarchy and
the inauguration of the Religion of Nature, the words
"royal" and " saint " disappear from the revolutionary
vocabulary. A new calendar is promulgated : streets and
squares are renamed : rues des Droits de l'Homme, de
la Revolution, des Piques de la Lois, efface the old
landmarks. We must now say Rue Honore, not St.
Honored and Mont Marat for Montmartre. Naturalists
had written of the queen bee : away with the hated
word ! She is now named of all good patriots the abeille
pondeuse, the egg-laying bee. No more emblems on
playing cards of king, queen, and knave : allegorical
figures of Genius, Liberty and Equality take their places, and
since Law alone is above them all, Patriotism, as it flings
down its biggest card, shall cry no longer, "Ace of trumps,"
but "Law of trumps," and " Genius of trumps." Furni-
ture is of Spartan simplicity. The people lie down on
patriotic beds and eat and drink from patriotic mugs and
platters. Silver buckles are needed by the national war
chest : shoes shall now be clasped by patriotic buckles of
copper. The monarchial " vous" (you) shall give place to
" toi " (thou) ; and " monsieur " and " madame to " citoyen "
and " citoyenne" The formal subscriptions to letters, " Your
humble servant," " Your obedient servant," shall no more
recall the old days of class subjection ; we write now " Your
fellow citizen," "Your friend," "Your equal." Every
house bears an inscription, giving the names and ages of the
occupants, decorated with patriotic colours of red, white
and blue, with figures of the Gallic cock and the bonnet
rouge. Over every public building runs the legend,
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity or Death" — it is even

272 PARIS AND ITS STORY

seen over the cages of the wild beasts at the Jardin des
Plantes.

Nowhere did the revolutionary ploughshare cut deeper
than among the clergy and the religious orders. Nearly
forty monasteries and convents were suppressed in Paris, and
strange scenes were those when the troops of monks and
friars issued forth to secular life, some crying, " Vive Jesus le
Roi et la Revolution" for the new ideas had penetrated
even the cloister. The barbers' shops were invaded, and
strange figures were seen smoking their pipes along the
Boulevards. Some went to the wars ; others, especially the
Benedictines, appealed for teaching appointments ; many,
faithful to their vows, went forth to poverty, misery and
death.

The nuns and sisters gave more trouble, and the scenes
that attended their expulsion and. that of the non-juring
clergy burned deep into the memories of the pious.
" What do they take from me ? " cried the cure of St.
Marguerite in his farewell sermon. u My cure ? All that
I have is yours, and it is you they despoil. My life ? I am
eighty-four years of age, and what of life remains to me is
not worth the sacrifice of my principles." Descending the
pulpit the venerable priest passed through a sobbing con-
gregation to a garret in one of the Faubourgs. There were
but few, however, who imitated the dignified protest of the
cure of St. Marguerite. Many a pulpit rang with fiery
denunciations, which recalled the savage fanaticism of the
league. Some of the younger clergy and a few of the
bishops were on the side of the early Revolutionists. The
Abb6 Fouchet was the Peter the Hermit of the crusade for
Liberty, and so popular were his sermons in Notre Dame
that a seat there fetched twenty-four sous. But the cor-
ruption and apostasy of the hierarchy as a whole, and their
betrayal of the people, had borne its acrid fruit of popular
contempt and hostility, resulting in the monstrous pro-
fanation of Notre Dame and other churches of Paris by
the fanatics of the worship of Nature and the puerile Deistic

REVOLUTIONARY PARIS 273

theatricalities of Robespierre's Feasts of the Supreme Being.
Compromise became impossible and the Revolutionists found
arrayed against them the most universal and the deepest
of human sentiments, the strongest cementing force in
civil life. Less than eight years after Robespierre's solemn
comedy of the Etre Supreme all the hierarchy of the old
religion returned — sixty archbishops and bishops, and an
army of priests. A gorgeous Easter Mass in Notre Dame
celebrated the re-establishment of the Catholic faith by
Napoleon, the heir of the Revolution.

It is not within the scope of the present work to deal
with the later annals of France. Superficial students of
her modern history have freely charged her with political
irresponsibility and fickleness ; no charge could be less
warranted by facts. For a thousand years her people were
loyal and faithful subjects of a monarchy, and endured for a
century and a half an infliction of misgovernment, oppression
and grinding taxation such as probably no other European
people would have tolerated. With touching fidelity and
indomitable steadfastness the French people have cherished
the principles of the Great Revolution, in whose name they
swept the shams and wrongs of the ancien regime away.
There is a profounder truth than perhaps Alphonse Karr
imagined in his famous epigram, Plus (a change plus cest la
mime chose. Every political upheaval of the nineteenth
century in Paris has been at bottom an effort to realise the
revolutionary ideals of political freedom and social equality
in the face of external violence or internal corruption and
treachery. Twice the hated Bourbons were re-imposed on
the people of Paris by the bayonets of the foreigner ; twice
they rose and chased them away. A compromise followed
— that of a citizen king, Louis Philippe of Orleans, once a
Jacobin doorkeeper and a soldier of the Revolution, who
had fought valiantly at Valmy and Jemappes. But he too
identified himself with reactionary ministers, and became
a fugitive to England, the bourne of deposed kings. The
Second Republic which followed grew distrustful of the

274 PARIS AND ITS STORY

people and disfranchised at one stroke 3,000,000 citizens : one
of the causes of the success of the coup d^itat of Napoleo
III. was an astute edict which restored universal suffrage.

During the negation of political rectitude and decen
which characterised the period of the Second Empire a littL
band of Republicans refused to bow the knee to the ne
pinchbeck Caesar, and, inspired by Victor Hugo, their fiery
poet and seer, whose Chdtiments have the passionate intensit
of an Isaiah, braved exile, poverty, calumny and flatter
They "stooped into a dark, tremendous sea of doub
pressed God's lamp to their breasts and emerged " to witne
a sad and bitter day of reckoning, when the corruption an
vice of the Second Empire were swallowed up in shame and
disaster at Sedan. The Third Republic, with admirable
energy and patriotism, rose to save the self-respect of France
The first and Imperial war, up to Sedan, was over in a month
the second national and popular war endured for five month

Dynastic and ecclesiastical ambition die hard, and the ne
Republic has had to weather many a storm in her career of
third of a century. Carducci in a fine poem has imagine
Letizia, mother of the Bonapartes, a wandering shade haun
ing the desolate house at Ajaccio and recalling the tragi
fate of her children : — a Corsican Niobe standing on her
threshold and fiercely stretching forth her arms to the
savage Ocean, calling, calling, that from America, from
Britain, from burning Africa, some one of her tragic pro
geny may come to find a haven in her breast. Bu
the assegais of South African savages laid low the la
hope of the Imperialists, and it may reasonably be pr
dieted that neither the shades nor the living descendant:
of Bonaparte or Bourbon will ever trouble again the internal
peace of France nor her people be ruled by one " regnant by
right divine and luck o' the pillow." Throughout the whole
land a profound desire of peace possesses men's minds x and

1 " We could rouse no enthusiasm," said the head of a State Department
to the writer at the time of the Fashoda incident, " even for a war
the recovery of Alsace and Lorraine, much less against England."

O-

its

MODERN PARIS 275

a firm determination to effect a material and moral re-
cuperation from the disasters of the Empire. Two facts in
modern France have impressed the present writer in his
travels since 1870 — the extraordinary number of new schools
that have been raised and staffed throughout the length
and breadth of the land and the wonderful activity of the
Catholic church as shown by new churches and foundations.
The beneficent results of the Great Revolution have
leavened the whole world. In no small degree may it be
said of France that by her stripes we have been healed.
With true insight the Revolutionists perceived that liberty
is the one essential element of national progress —

u When liberty goes out of a place it is not the first to go,
Nor the second or third to go,
It waits for all the rest to go, it is the last."

But the great work is yet incomplete. Political liberty
and equality have been won. A more tremendous task
awaits the peoples of the old and new worlds alike — to
achieve industrial emancipation and inaugurate a reign of
social justice. And we know that Paris will have no small
part in the solution of this problem.

It now remains to consider the impress which this
stormy period left on the architecture of Paris. We have
seen that the Convention assigned the royal Palace of the
Louvre for the home of a national museum. The neglect
of the fabric, however, continued. Already Marat had
appropriated four of the royal presses and their accessories
for the Ami du Peuple, and the types founded for Louis
XIV. were used to print the diatribes of the fiercest advocate
of the Terror. All along the south facade, print and cook
shops were seen, and small huckstering went on unheeded.
In 1794 the ground floor of the Petite Galerie was used as
a Bourse. On the Place du Carrousel, and the site of the
Squares du Louvre were a mass of mean houses which remained

276 PARIS AND ITS STORY

even to comparatively recent times. In 1805 ^e masterfi
will and all-embracing activity of Napoleon were directed t<
the improvement of Paris, which he determined to make th<
most beautiful capital in the world. His architects, Perciei
and Fontaine, were set to work on the Louvre, and yet
another vast plan was elaborated for completing the Palace.
A northern wing, corresponding to Henry IV.'s south winj
was to be built eastwards along the new Rue de Rivoli,
from the Pavilion de Marsan at the north end of th<
Tuileries ; the Carrousel was to be traversed by a buildin[
separating the two palaces, designed to house the Nation?
Library, the learned Societies and other bodies. Of this
ambitious plan, however, all that was carried out was a
portion of the Rue de Rivoli facade, from the Pavilion de
Marsan to the Pavilion de Rohan, which latter was flnishec
under the Restoration. Some external decorative worl
was carried out on the south facade. Perrault's Colonnad<
was restored, the four facades of the quadrangle were com-
pleted, and a new bridge to lead to the " Palace of the Arts "
was built. Little or nothing was done to further Napoleon's
plan until the Republic of 1848 decreed the completion oi
the north facade, which was actually achieved under the
Second Empire by Visconti in 1857, who built other
structures, each with three courts, inside the great space
enclosed by the north and south wings to correct their want
of parallelism. Later (1862- 1868), Henry the Fourth's
long gallery and the Pavilions de Flore and Lesdiguieres wen
rebuilt, and smaller galleries were added to those giving 01
the Cour des Tuileries. After the disastrous fire whic]
destroyed the Tuileries in 1871, the Third Republic restorec
the Pavilions de Flore and de Marsan.

But the vicissitudes of this wonderful pile of architecture
are not yet ended. The discovery of Perrault's base
at the east and of Lemercier's at the north, will inevitable
lead to their proximate disclosure. Ample space remains
the east for the excavation of a wide and deep fosse, whic]
would expose the wing to view as Perrault intended it ; but

MODERN PARIS 277

on the Rue de Rivoli side the problem is more difficult, and
probably a narrow fosse, or saut de /oup, will be all that
space will allow there.

Napoleon I.'s new streets near the Tuileries and
the Louvre soon became the fashionable quarter of Paris.
The Italian .arcades and every street name recalled a
former victory of the Consulate in Italy and Egypt.
The military glories of a revolutionary empire, which at
one time transcended the limits of that of Charlemagne ;
which crashed through the shams of the old world and
toppled in the dust their imposing but hollow state,
were wrought in bronze on the Vendome Column, cast
from the cannon captured from every nation in Europe.
The Triumphal Arch of the Carrousel, crowned by the
bronze horses from St. Mark's at Venice ; the majestic
Triumphal Arch of the Etoile — a partially achieved project
— all paraded the Emperor's fame. Of more practical utility
were the quays built along the south bank of the Seine ;
the bridges of Austerlitz and Jena, which latter Bliicher
would have blown up had Wellington permitted it.

The erection of the new church of the Madeleine, begun
in 1764, had been interrupted by the Revolution, and in
1806, Napoleon ordered that it should be completed as a
Temple of Glory. The Restoration transformed it to a
Catholic church, which was finally completed under Louis
Philippe in 1842. It is now the most fashionable place of
worship in Paris. Napoleon drove sixty new streets through
Paris, cleared away the posts that marked off the footways,
began the raised pavements and kerbs, and ordered the
drainage to be diverted from the gutters in the centre of the
roadway.

The Restoration erected two basilicas — Notre Dame de
Lorette and St. Vincent de Paul — the latter made famous
by Flandrin's masterly frescoes, painted^ on a gold ground
around the nave and choir. The Expiatory Chapel
raised to the memory of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette
on the site of the old cemetery of the Madeleine — where

278 PARIS AND ITS STORY

they lay, until transferred to St. Denis, in one red burial
with the brave Swiss Guards who vainly spent their lives
for them — is now threatened with demolition. Three new
bridges — of the Invalids, the Archeveche and Arcole — were
added, and fifty-five new streets.

Under the citizen king, Napoleon's Arch of Triumph
of the Etoile was completed, and the Columns of Luxor,
on the Place de la Concorde, and of July on the Place de la
Bastille, were raised. It was the period of the admirable
architectural restorations of Viollet le Due. The great
architect has described how his passion for Gothic was
stirred when, taken as a boy to Notre Dame, the ros<
window of the south seized upon his imagination. Whil<
gazing at it the organ began to play, and he thoughl
that the music came from the window — the shrill, high
notes from the light colours, the solemn, bass notes from
the dark and more subdued hues. It was a reverent and
admiring spirit such as this which inspired the famous archi-
tect's loving treatment of the Gothic restoration in Pari*
and all over France. To him more than to any other artist
we owe the preservation of such masterpieces as Notre Dame
and the Sainte Chapelle.

But the great changes which have made modern Paris
were effected under the Second Empire. In 1854, when
the Haussemannisation of the city began, the Paris of the
First Empire and of the Restoration remained essentially
unaltered. It was a city of a few grand streets and of many
mean ones. Pavements were still rare, and drainage was im-
perfect. In a few years the whole aspect was changed.
Twenty-two new boulevards and avenues were created.
Streets of appalling uniformity and directness were ploughed
through Paris in all directions. " Nothing is more brutal
than a straight line," says Victor Hugo, and there is little
of interest in the monotonous miles of dreary coincidence
which constitute the architectural legacy of the Second
Empire.

The sad task of the Third Republic has been to heal the

WBSBKKSmsmm

Rue Drouet and Sacre Cceur.

MODERN PARIS

279

wounds and cover up the destruction wrought by the Civil
War of 1 87 1. The chief architectural creations of the
Third Republic are the Hotel de Ville, the new Sorbonne,
the Trocadero, and the completion of the magnificent and
colossal temple, rich with precious marble and stone of

HOTEL DE VILLE FROM RIVER.

every kind, which, at a cost of ^10,000,000 sterling,
has been raised to the Muses at the end of the Avenue
de l'Opera. The Church, too, has lavished her mil-
lions on the mighty basilica of the Sacre Cceur, which
dominates Paris from the heights of Montmartre. But
some of the glory of past ages remains hidden away in
corners of the city ; some has been recovered from the

28o

PARIS AND ITS STORY

vandalism of iconoclastic eighteenth-century architects,
canons, revolutionists and nineteenth-century prefects.

Let us now wander awhile about the great city and
refresh our memories of her dramatic past by beholding
somewhat of the interest and beauty which have been
preserved to us ; for " to be in Paris itself, amid the full,
delightful fragrance of those dainty visible things which
Huguenots despised — that, surely, were the sum of good
fortune ! "

CHAPTER XIX

HISTORICAL PARIS THE CITE* THE UNIVERSITY QUARTER

THE VILLE THE LOUVRE THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE

THE BOULEVARDS

There are few spots in Europe where so many associa-
tions are crowded together as on the little island of the
Cite in Paris. In Gallo-Roman times it was, as we have
seen, even smaller, three islets having been incorporated
with it since the thirteenth century. Some notion of the
changes that have swept over its soil may be conceived on
scanning Felibien's 1725 map, where no less than eighteen
churches are marked, scarce a wrack of which now remains
on the island. We must imagine the old mediaeval Cite
as a labyrinth of crooked and narrow streets, with the
present broad Parvis of Notre Dame of much smaller extent
encumbered with shops and at a lower level. Thirteen
steps led up to the Cathedral, and the Bishop's gallows stood
facing them. Against the north tower leaned the Baptistry
(St. Jean le Rond) and St. Denis du Pas against the apse.
St. Pierre aux Bceufs, whose facade has been transferred to
St. Severing on the south bank, stood at the east corner,
St. Christopher at the west corner of the present Hotel
Dieu which covers the site of eleven streets and three
churches. The old twelfth-century hospital, demolished in
1878, occupied the whole space, south of the Parvis
between the present Petit Pont and the Pont au Double.
It possessed its own bridge, the Pont St. Charles, over
which the buildings stretched, and joined the annexe (1606),
which still exists on the opposite side of the river. Behind
Notre Dame in mediaeval times was an open space of waste

281

282

PARIS AND ITS STORY

land, the Motte aux Papelards, where the servants of the
Cathedral disported themselves. To the east and north-east
stood the cloisters and canons' dwellings, a veritable city
within a city, with four gates and fifty-one houses. Canon
Fulbert's house stood on the site of No. 10 Rue

NOTRE DAME, SOUTH SIDE.

Chanoinesse, and at No. 9 Quai aux Fleurs an inscription
marks the site of the house of Heloise and Abelard. The
Rue and Pont d'Arcole have cleared away the old church of
St. Landry and the port of that name, where up to the
reign of Louis XIII. a market was held, at which foundling
children from the hospital on the Par vis could be bought
for thirty sous. The scandal was abolished by the efforts

THE CITE 283

of the gentle St. Vincent de Paul, Anne of Austria's
confessor. Until comparatively recent times the church of
St. Marine was used as a joiner's workship, and one of
the chapels of the Madeleine, the parish church of the
water-sellers, served as a wine merchant's store ! And
where are the Sanctuaries of Ste. Genevieve des Ardents,
St. Pierre aux Liens, St. Denis de la Chartre, St. Ger-
main le Vieux, St. Aignan, Ste. Croix, St. Symphorien,
St. Martial, St. Bartholomew, and the church of the
Barnabites, which replaced that of St. Anne, which replaced
the old abbey church of St. Eloy, all clustering around
their parent church of Our Lady, like nuns under their
patroness' mantle ? Some remains of the pavement of St.
Aignan's, with the almost effaced lineaments and inscriptions
on the flat tombstones of those, now forgotten, who in their
day were doubtless famous churchmen, may be seen in the
court of No. 26 Rue Chanoinesse ; but the only ancient
buildings that rest on the old Cite are Notre Dame and
some portions of the Palais, including the Sainte Chapelle.
Not a street retains its old aspect. The clock tower of the
Palais dates from 1849, and the face of Germain Pilon's
famous clock has been re-carved. The Quai de l'Horloge,
once named of the morfondus (chilled), because of its cold,
northern, sunless aspect, where Madame Roland spent her
childhood in her father's house, has been widened and
lowered. There, at least, is a fine relic of old Paris, the
picturesque, mediaeval towers of the Conciergerie, in olden
times the principal entrance to the Palace. A fifteenth-
century tower called of Dagobert, in the Rue Chanoinesse,
is shown to travellers by the courtesy of Messieurs
Allez Freres, and marks the site of the old port of St.
Landry.

If the traveller will place himself on the Pont Royal or
on the Pont du Carrousel, and look towards the Cite when
the tall buildings, the spire of the Sainte Chapelle and the
massive grey towers of Notre Dame are ruddy with the
setting sun, he will enjoy a scene of beauty not easily

284 PARIS AND ITS STORY

surpassed in Europe. Across the picture, somewhat marred
by the unlovely Pont des Arts, marches the procession of
the arches of the Pont Neuf with their graceful curves.
Below is the little green patch of garden and the cascade of
the "weir; in the centre the bronze horse with its royal
rider, almost hidden by the trees, stands facing the site of
the old garden of the Palais, now the Place Dauphine,
where St. Louis sat on a carpet judging his people, and
whence Philip the Fair watched the flames that were con-
suming the Grand Master and his companion of the Knights
Templars. To the left are the picturesque mediaeval
towers of the Conciergerie and the tall roof of the belfry
of the Palais. Around all are the embracing waters of the
Seine breaking the light with their thousand facets. The
island, when seen from the east as one sails down the river,
is not less imposing, for the great mother church of Notre
Dame, with the graceful buttresses of the apse like folded
pinions, seems to brood over the whole Cite.

As we turn southwards from the Cite across the Petit
Pont we see the old Roman road, now Rue St. Jacques,
rising before us, and on the annexe of the Hotel Dieu, in the
Place du Petit Pont, are inscribed their names ' who nearly
twelve centuries ago dared —

" For that sweet motherland which gave them birth,
Nobly to do, nobly to die."

To left and right are two of the most interesting
churches in Paris — St. Julien le Pauvre, where the
University held its first sittings, and St. SeVerin, built
on the site of the oratory of Childebert I., where St.
Cloud was shorn and took his vows. Both churches
were destroyed by the Normans. The former was re-
built in the twelfth century, the latter from the thirteenth
to the fifteenth centuries. The portal of St. Severin has

1 See p. 41.

286 PARIS AND ITS STORY

been, as we have already mentioned, transferred from the
thirteenth-century church of St. Pierre aux Bceufs, in the
Cite. Two small lions in relief, between which the cures of the
church in olden times are said to have exercised justice, have
been replaced on either side of the north door of the tower.
This beautiful Gothic temple, with its magnificent stained
glass, was used during the Revolution as a powder magazine.
Hard by, in the picturesque old Rue de la Parchmenerie,
two houses, Nos. 6 and 7, were once the property of the
canons of Norwich Cathedral, who maintained a number of
scholars there. Turning out of this street, the Rue Boutebrie,
was in olden times the Rue des Enlumineurs (illuminators),
famous for those who practised the art " che alluminare
Mamato e in Parisi" A street (Rue Dante), which bears
the name of the great poet, from whom this line is taken,
leads to the Rue du Fouarre (Straw Street), in one of whose
colleges the author of the Divina Commedia probably sat as
scholar. The houses are all modernised, and the name
alone remains. Southwards again, the Rue des Anglais
reminds us that there the English scholars lived ; and to the
east is the Place Maubert, of dread memories, for there were
burnt many a Protestant martyr, and the famous printer-
philosopher, Etienne Dolet, whose statue in bronze stands
on the Place. Yet further south, near the site of the old
Carmelite monastery in the Rue des Carmes, stood, at No. 15,
the Italian College (College des Lombards). Much of this
" hostel of the poor Italian scholars of the charity of Our
Lady," as rebuilt in 1681 by the efforts of two Irish priests,
Michael Kelly and Patrick Moggin, still remains, including
the chapel, and is occupied by a Catholic Workmen's Club.
It formerly gave shelter to forty Irish missionary priests and
an equal number of poor Irish scholars. Some idea of the
vast extent of the ancient foundation will be gained by
walking round to the Rue de la Montagne, where the prin-
cipal portal may be seen. If we turn westwards by the Rue
des Ecoles, we shall pass the famous College de France, and
soon reach the Hotel de Cluny, and the remains of the

The Observatory.

THE UNIVERSITY QUARTER

287

Roman palace and baths. The ruins and ground were pur-
chased by the Abbots of Cluny in 1340, and the present
beautiful late Gothic mansion was completed for them in
1490. It was often let by the abbots, and was occupied by
James V. of Scotland when he came to Paris in 1536 to
celebrate his marriage
with Magdalen,
daughter of Francis I.
In the frigidarium of
the baths are the re-
mains of the altar to
Jupiter found under
Notre Dame, a statue
of the Emperor Julian,
and many a relic of
Roman Paris.

The abbots' delight-
ful old mansion is filled
with a rich collection
of mediaeval statues,
altar paintings, wood
carvings, ivories, reli-
quaries, stained glass,
tapestries (among them . .
the Lady and Unicorn f
series, the finest ever '
wrought),embroideries
and textile fabrics,
enamels and gold-
smiths' work — all of wondrous beauty and interest. The
rooms themselves, with their fine Renaissance chimney-pieces,
where on winter days wood fires, fragrant and genial, burn,
are not the least charming part of the museum. Many of
the objects (about 11,000) exhibited are uncatalogued, and
the old catalogue, long out of date, might well be classed
among the antiquities.

South of the Cluny are the vast buildings of the new

TOWER AND COURTYARD OF HOTEL CLUNY.

288 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Sorbonne, the modern University of Paris, where som<
12,000 students are gratuitously taught. The vestibult
grand staircase and amphitheatre are of noble and im-
pressive architecture, and adorned with mural paintings,
among which Puvis de Chavannes' great decorative com-
position in the amphitheatre is of chiefest interest
The paintings of the vestibule illustrate scenes in the
history of the University of Paris. Of Richelieu's Sor-
bonne, the chapel alone exists to-day : all the remaindei
has been swept away, together with the north cloistei
and church of St. Benoist, where Francois Villon assassin-
ated his rival Chermoye.

We are now on Mont St. Genevieve, crowned b]
the Pantheon, below which, at No. 14 Rue Soufflot, an
inscription marks the site of the Dominican monastery,
where Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas Aquinas taught.
To the north is the extensive library of St. Genevieve, on the
site of the College Montaigue. Behind are the church of
St. Etienne du Mont the burial-place of Racine and Pascal,
with its beautiful jubi, or choir screen, and the Lycee
Henri IV., enclosing the tower of Clovis, all that remains of
the fine old abbey church of St. Genevieve. Hard by is the
Rue Descartes, where stood the college of Navarre, which
was demolished to give place to the Ecole Polytechnique.
Farther south, the Rue de Navarre leads to the ruins of the
great Roman amphitheatre.

West of the Boulevard St. Michel are the fine modern
buildings of the Ecole de Medecine, which, from 1369
to the times of Louis XV., was situated further east-
wards in the Rue de la Bucherie, where (No. 13) some
remains of the old hall of the Faculty may yet be
seen. It was here that an anatomical and surgical
theatre was built in 161 7. The old Franciscan refectory
(No. 15 Rue de l'Ecole de Medecine) is all that
remains of the great monastery of the Cordeliers.
Here the body of Marat was laid on an altar, after his
assassination by Charlotte Corday in a house on whose sift

OLD ACADEMY OF MEDICINE.
T

290 PARIS AND ITS STORY

his statue stands. The refectory is now used as a path
logical museum for medical students. The famous revolu
tionary club of the Cordeliers, where the gentler rhetoric o
Camille Desmoulins vied with the thunderous declamatio
of Danton to stir Republican fervour, met in the Hall o
Theology. At No. 5 are some remains of the school o
surgery, or Guild of St. Cosimo and St. Damian, founded by
St. Louis ; adjacent stood the church of St. Cosimo (St.
Cosme), famous for the fiery zeal of its curt during the
times of the League.

The surgeons were by their charter compelled to give
professional assistance to the poor every Monday, and in
1 56 1 the curt and churchwardens of St. Cosme obtained a
papal bull authorising them to erect in their church a suitable
consulting hall for the accommodation of poor patients. In
1694 the surgeons built an anatomical theatre of their own
at St. Cosme, which was enlarged in 17 10. The buildings
are now used as a school of decorative art. The magnificent
Franciscan church, where many a queen of France lay
buried, stood on the site of the present Place de TEcole de
Medecine.

South of these is the Luxembourg Palace, whose
charming Renaissance gardens, unhappily, owing to the
erection of the Observatory in 1672, reduced by more than
one-third of their former extent, are the delight of the
Parisians of the south bank of the Seine. The old
Orangery, restored and enlarged, is used as a public
museum of contemporary French art, chiefly painting and
sculpture. Here are exhibited the works of modern artists
which have been deemed worthy of acquisition by the State
They display great talent and technical skill, but th
visitor will leave, impressed by few works of great dis
tinction. The English traveller will, however, be enviou
of a collection whose catholicity embraces examples of the
work of two great modern masters, Londoners by option —
Legros and Whistler. Any impression of modern French
painting that may be left on the mind of the visitor by an

:s
e !

THE UNIVERSITY QUARTER 291

inspection of the examples hung in the Luxembourg should
however be supplemented and corrected by a visit to the
decorative works in the great public edifices, such as
the Hotel de Ville, the Sorbonne, the Panthdon, and the
churches of Paris.

North of the Museum loom the massive gloomy towers
of the church of St. Sulpice, which contains, among much
mediocre painting, a chapel to the right of the entrance
adorned by some of Delacroix's finest work. Still further
northward is the old abbey church of St. Germain des Pres.
But before entering we may cross the Rue de Rennes and
visit (No. 50) the picturesque Cour du Dragon, so-called
from the eighteenth-century figure of the dragon over the
portal. At the end of this curious courtyard, paved as old
Paris was paved, with the gutter in the centre of the street,
will be seen two interesting old towers enclosing stairways.

The grey pile of St. Germain des Pres, the burial-place
of the Merovingian kings, once refulgent with gold and
colour, has been wholly restored ; but on the west porch,
over the main entrance, a well-preserved, Romanesque
relief of the Last Supper may be noted. The admir-
able frescoes in the interior by Flandrin are among the
noblest achievements of modern French art. Part of
the Abbots' Palace of the sixteenth century is left
standing in the Rue de TAbbaye, but of all the fortress-
monastery, with its immense domain of lands and
cloisters, walls and towers, over which those puissant
lords held sway, only a memory remains : the walls
were razed in the seventeenth century and replaced by
artizans' houses. The Rue du Four recalls the old feudal
oven. Lower down the Rue Bonaparte is the little visited
but most interesting Ecole des Beaux Arts, once the
monastery of the Petits Augustins, now rich in examples
of early Renaissance architecture and other artistic
treasures. It is a great teaching centre, and trains
some fifteen hundred students in sculpture, painting and
architecture. Westward of this, the artists' quarter of

COUR DU DRAGON.

THE VILLE 293

Paris, is the select and aristocratic, but dull Faubourg St.
Germain — the noble Faubourg — where many of the
descendants of the noblesse who escaped from the wreck
of their order during the Revolution, dwell in petulant
isolation and haughty aversion from the Third Republic
and all its ways. Further westward are the great hospital
and church of the Invalides, with Napoleon's majestic
monument, and the military school of the Champ de Mars.

Two parallel historic roads named of St. Martin and
St. Denis cut northwards through the masses of habitations
that crowd the northern bank of the Seine. The former
was the great Roman street, leading to the provinces of the
north : the latter, the Grande Chaussee de Monseigneur
St. Denis, led to the shrine of the patron saint and martyr
of Lutetia. Along this, the richest and finest street of
mediaeval Paris, the kings of France and Henry V. of
England passed in solemn state to Notre Dame. Four
gates, whose sites are known in each of these two streets,
mark the successive stages of the growth of the city. In
1 141 a sloping bank of sand (greve), a little to the east of
the Rue St. Martin and facing the old port of the Naut<e
at St. Landry on the island of the Cite, was ceded by royal
charter to the burgesses of Paris for a payment of seventy
livres. "It is void of houses," says the charter, "and is
called the gravia, and is situated where the old market-place
(yetus forum) existed. " This was the origin of the famous
Place de Greve where throbbed the very heart of civic,
commercial and industrial Paris. Here Etienne Marcel
purchased for the Hotel de Ville the Maison aux Piliers
(House of the Pillars), a long, low building, whose upper
floor was supported by columns. Here every revolutionary
and democratic movement has been organised from the days
of Marcel to those of the Communes of 1789 — when the
last Provost of the Merchants met his death — and of 1871,
when Domenico da Cortona's fine Renaissance hotel was
destroyed by fire.

294

PARIS AND ITS STORY

The place of sand was much smaller in olden times, an(
from 13 10, when Philip the Fair burned three heretics, t<

ST. GERVAIS.

July 1830, when the last murderer was hung there, has
soaked up the blood of many a famous enemy of State an<
Church and of innumerable notorious and obscure criminal!
A permanent gibbet stood there and a market cross. Ever]
St. John's eve — the church and cloister of St. Jean stooc

THE VILLE 295

behind the Hotel de Ville — a great bonfire was lighted in
the Place de Greve, fireworks were let off, and a salvo of
artillery celebrated the festival. When the relations between
Crown and Commune were felicitous the king himself
would take part in the fete and fired the pile with a torch
of white wax which was decorated with crimson velvet.
A royal supper and ball in the Grande Salle concluded the
revels. Not infrequently the ashes at the stake where a
poor wretch had met his doom were scarcely cool before
the joyous flames and fireworks of the Feu de St. Jean burst
forth. The very day after the execution of the Count of
Bouteville the people were dancing round the fires of St.
John. The Place was often flooded by the Seine until the
embankment was built in 1675. The present Hotel de
Ville, completed in 1882, is one of the finest modern
edifices in Europe.

To the east of the hotel stands the church of St.
Gervais, whose facade by Debrosse (16 17) "is regarded,"
says Felibien (1725), "as a masterpiece of art by the best
architectural authorities" (uks plus intelligens en architecture").
The church, which has been several times rebuilt, occupies
the site of the old sixth-century building, near which stood
the elm tree where suitors waited for justice to be done
by the early kings. " Attendre sous Forme" ("To wait under
the elm ") is still a proverbial expression for waiting till
Doomsday. To the east of the Rue St. Martin is the
quarter of the Marais (marsh) at whose eastern limit a
group of street names recalls the royal palace-city of St.
Paul. At the south of the Rue du Figuier, on the Place
de l'Ave Maria, stands the Hotel of the Archbishops of
Sens, and near by, in the Passage Charlemagne, is the Hotel
of the royal Provost of Paris. As we cross the Rue St.
Antoine to the old Place Royale (des Vosges), we may
note at No 2 1 the Hotel de Mayenne — where the chamber
still exists in which the leaders of the League met and
decided to assassinate Henry III. — and at No 62, the Hotel
de Sully, where Henry the Fourth's great minister and,

296

PARIS AND ITS STORY

later, Turgot dwelt. The Place Royale occupies the site
of the palace of the Tournelles built for the Duke of

PLACE DES VOSGES, MAISON DE VICTOR HUGO.

Bedford during the English occupation, near which Henry
II. lost his life in the fatal tournament. The palace became
hateful to Catherine de' Medici, and she had it demolished.

THE VILLE 297

The site was subsequently used as a horse market, and
there three mignons of Henry III. fought their bloody duel
with three bullies of the Duke of Guise. The architecture
of Henry IV. Place is little changed ; the king's and
queen's pavilions stood south and north ; Richelieu
occupied the present No. 21, and at No. 6 dwelt Marshal
Lavardin, who was sitting in the coach when his royal
master, Henry IV., was stabbed. Later this house was
occupied by Victor Hugo, and is now maintained as a
museum of much interest to lovers of the darling poet of
nineteenth-century Paris. A little to the west, in the Rue
des Francs Bourgeois, is the Hotel Carnarvalet, built in
1 544 by Jean Bullant, the architect of the Tuileries, to the
design of Pierre Lescot. Jean Goujon carved, among other
decorative works, the fine reliefs of the four Seasons in the
quadrangle where now stands a bronze statue of Louis XIV.
by Coyzevox, brought from the old Hotel de Ville. In
this noble Renaissance mansion, enlarged by F. Mansard
and others, lived for twenty years Madame de Sevigne,
queen of letter writers, and her Carnarv alette^ as she
lovingly called it, is now the civic museum of Paris, devoted
to objects illustrating the history of the city. It is especially
rich in exhibits bearing on the Great Revolution. Passing
along the Rue des Francs Bourgeois we may note (No 38)
an old inscription which marks the scene of the assassination
of the Duke of Orleans by Jean sans Peur. At the north
corner of the Rue des Archives is the entrance to the
National Archives, housed in the fine pseudo-classical Hotel
de Soubise, constructed in 1 704 on the site of the Hotel of
the Constable de Clisson, of which the old Gothic (restored)
portal exists in the Rue des Archives. It was at the Hotel
de Clisson that Charles VI., after his terrible vengeance on
the revolted burgesses, agreed to remit further punishment,
and for a time the mansion was known as the Hotel des
Graces.

Lower down the Rue des Archives are the Rue de
THomme Arme and the fifteenth-century cloisters of the

THE VILLE 299

monastery of the Billettes, founded at the end of the
thirteenth century to commemorate the miracle of the
sacred Host, which had defied the efforts of the Jew Jonathan
to destroy it by steel, fire and boiling. The chapel, built
in 1294 on the site of the Jew's house, was rebuilt in 1754,
and is now used as a Protestant church. The miraculous
Host was preserved as late as Felibien's time in St. Jean
en Greve, and carried annually in procession on the octave
of Corpus Christi. At the north end of the Rue des
Archives is the site, now a square and a market, of the
grisly old fortress of the Knights Templars, whose walls
and towers and round church were still standing a century
ago. The enclosure was a famous place of refuge for
insolvent debtors and political offenders, and sheltered
Rousseau in 1765 when a lettre de cachet was issued for
his arrest. In the gloomy keep, which was not destroyed
until 181 1, were imprisoned the royal family of France
after the abandonment of the Tuileries on 10th August
1792. The old market of the Temple, the centre of the
petites industries of Paris, is being demolished as we write.
West of this is the huge Museum of the Arts and
Crafts (Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers), on the site
of the abbatial buildings and lands of St. Martin of the
Fields, still preserving in its structure the beautiful
thirteenth-century church and refectory of the Abbey.
As we turn southwards again by the Rue St. Martin we
shall pass on our left one of the most curious remains of
old Paris, the narrow Rue de Venise, a veritable mediaeval
street formerly known as the Ruelle des Usuriers, the home
of the Law speculators where men almost rent each other in
pieces in their mad scramble for fortune. At No. 27, the
corner of the Rue Quincampoix, is the famous old inn of the
Epee de Bois, now A l'Arrivee de Venise, where De Horn,
a member of a princely German family, and two gentlemen
assassinated and robbed a financier in open day, and were
broken alive on the wheel in the Place de Greve. Mari-
vaux and L. Racine are said, with other wits, to have

300 PARIS AND ITS STORY

frequented the old inn, and Mazarin granted letters-
patent to a company of dancing masters, who met there
under the management of the Roi des Violins. From
these modest beginnings grew the National Academy of
Dancing.

At the south end of the Rue St. Martin rises the beau-
tiful flamboyant Gothic tower, all that remains of the great
church of St. Jacques de la Boucherie. This fine monu-
ment of the past was saved by the good sense of the
architect Giraud, who, when it was sold to the house-
breakers during the Revolution, inserted a clause in the
warrant of sale exempting the tower from demolition ; it
was used as a lead foundry, and twice narrowly escaped
destruction by fire. Purchased later by the city it seemed
safe at last, but in 1853 the prolongation of the Rue de
Rivoli again threatened its existence ; luckily, however,
the line of the new street passed by on the north. The
statue of Pascal, under the vaulting, reminds the traveller
that the great thinker conducted some of his barometrical
experiments on the summit, and the nineteen statues in
the niches mostly represent the patron saints of the various
crafts that settled under its shadow. On the Place du
Chatelet, at the foot of the Pont au Change, stood the
massive Grand Chatelet, originally built by Louis the Lusty
near the site of the old fortress, which, during the Norman
invasions defended the approach to the Grand Pont as
the Petit Chatelet did the approach to the Petit Pont on the
south. The Grand Chatelet, demolished in 1802, was the
official seat and prison of the Provost of Paris, where he
held his criminal court and organised the city watch. The
Column and Fountain of Victory which now stand in the
Place commemorate the victories of Napoleon in Egypt
and Italy.

Nowhere in Paris has the housebreaker's pick been plied
with greater vigour than in the parallelogram enclosed by
the Boulevard de Sebastopol, the Rues Etienne Marcel
and du Louvre, and the Seine. The site of the im-

S. EUSTACHE.

THE VILLE 301

mense necropolis of the Innocents T is now partly oc-
cupied by the Square des Innocents adorned by Lescot's
fountain.

A curious early fifteenth-century story is associated
with this charnel house. One morning the wife of Adam
de la Gonesse and her niece, two bourgeoises of Paris,
went abroad to have a little flutter and eat two sous'
worth of tripe in a new inn. On their way they met
Dame Tifaigne the milliner, who recommended the tavern
of the " Maillez," where the wine was excellent. Thither
they went and drank not wisely but too well. When
fifteen sous had already been spent, they determined to
make a day of it and ordered roast goose with hot
cakes. After further drinking, gaufrres, cheese, peeled
almonds, pears, spices and walnuts were called for
and the feast ended in songs. When the " bad quarter
of an hour " came they had not enough money to
pay, and parted with some of their finery to meet the
score. At midnight they left the inn dancing and
singing —

a Amours au vireli m'en vois."

The streets of Paris, however, at midnight were unsafe
even for sober ladies, and these soon fell among thieves,
were stripped of the rest of their clothing, then taken up
for dead by the watch and flung into the mortuary in the
Cemetery of the Innocents ; but to the terror of the
gravedigger were found lying outside the next morning
singing,—

" Druin, Druin, ou es allez ?
Apporte trois harens salez
Et un pot de vin du plus fort."

1 According to Sir Thomas Browne, bodies soon consumed there.
" 'Tis all one to lie in St. Innocents' churchyard as in the sands of
Egypt, ready to be anything, in the ecstasy of being ever, and as content
with six feet as the moles of Adrianus." — Urn Burial, p. 351.

302

PARIS AND ITS STORY

The huge piles of skulls and human remains that
grinned from under the gable roof of the gallery painted
.with the Dance of Death were in 1786 carted away to the
catacombs under Paris, formed by the old Gallo- Roman
quarrymen as they quarried the stone used to build
Lutetia. An immense area of picturesque Halles and
streets : — the Halle aux Draps ; the Marche des Her-
boristes, with their mysterious stores of simples and
healing herbs and leeches ; the Marche* aux Pommes
de Terre et aux Oignons ; the butter and cheese markets ;
the fish market ; the queer old Rue de la Tonnellerie,
under whose shabby porticoes, sellers of rags, old clothes,
iron and furniture, crowded against the bread market ;
the Marche des Prouvaires, beloved of thrifty housewives
— all are swallowed up by the vast modern structure of iron
and glass, known as Les Halles. The Halle au Bl&, or
corn market, last to disappear, was built on the site of th<
Hotel de la Reine which Catherine de' Medici had erected
when frightened from the Tuileries by her astrologer
Ruggieri. The site is now occupied by the Bourse de
Commerce. One curious decorated and channelled column,
however, which conceals a stairway used by Catherine and
her Italian familiar when they ascended to the roof to con-
sult the stars, was preserved and made into a fountain in
1 8 12. It still stands against the new Bourse in the Rue de
Viarmes. North of the Halles the small Rue Pirouette
recalls the old revolving pillory of the Halles, and yet
further north, between Nos. 100 and 102 Rue Reamur, a
dingy old passage leads to the Cour des Miracles, which
Victor Hugo has made famous in Notre Dame. There,
too, was the gambling hell kept by Jean Dubarry, paramour
of Jeanne Vaubernier, who was the daughter of a monk and
became the famous mistress of Louis XV. She was married
by Louis to Guillaume, brother of Jean Dubarry, to give her
some standing at court.

At the south angle of the Rue Montmartre the
majestic transitional church of St. Eustache towers over the

Winged Victory of Samothrace.

THE VILLE

303

Halles. We descend the Rue Vauvilliers, formerly of the

Four (oven) St. Honore, in which two of the houses

still display old painted signs : others retain their

quaint appellations —

The Sheep's Trotter,

The Golden Sun, The

Cat and Ball. Turning

westward by the Rue

St. Honore, we shall find

at the corner of the Rue

de l'Arbre Sec the fine

fountain of the Croix du

Trahoir erected in the

reign of Francis I. and

rebuilt by Soufflot in

1775 : ^ere tradition

places the cruel death

of Queen Brunehaut.

Lower down, where the

street intersects the Rue

de Rivoli, an inscription

on the corner house to

the left marks the site

of the Hotel de Mont-

bazan, where Coligny

was assassinated, and

yet lower down the Rue

de l'Arbre Sec we note

the Hotel des Mous-

quetaires, the dwelling

of the famous D' Artagan

of Dumas' Trots Mous-

quetaires^ opposite the apse of the church of St. Germain

l'Auxerrois. After examining the interior of the church,

especially the beautiful fifteenth-century Chambre des

Archives, and the porch of the same date, we are brought

face to face with the principal entrance to the Louvre.

NEAR THE PONT NEUF.

3°4

PARIS AND ITS STORY

No other edifice in the world forms so vast a treasun
house of rich and varied works of art as the great Palace
of the Louvre whose growth we have traced in our story.
The nucleus of the gallery of paintings was formed bi
Francis I. and the Renaissance princes at the palace ol
Fontainebleau, where the canvases at the beginning of the
seventeenth century had reached nearly 200. Colbert,
during the reign of Louis XIV. by the purchase of
the Mazarin and other collections, added 647 paintings
and nearly 6000 drawings in ten years. In 1681 the
Cabinet du Roi, for so the collection of royal ^pictures
was called, was transferred to the Louvre. They soon,
however, followed their owner to Versailles, but some
hundred were subsequently returned to Paris, where they
might be inspected at the Luxembourg Palace by the
public on Wednesdays and Saturdays. In 1709 Bailly,
the keeper of the king's cabinet, took an inventory of th<
paintings and they were found to number 2376. In 1757
all were again returned to Versailles, and it was not until
1793, when the National Convention, on Barrere's motion,
took the matter in hand, that they were restored to the
Parisians and, together with the works of art removed from
the suppressed churches and monasteries, formed the famous
picture gallery of the Louvre, which was formally opened
to the public on the first anniversary of the memorable 10th
of August. Napoleon's spoils from Italian and othei
European galleries, which almost choked the Louvre during
his reign, were reduced in 18 15 by the return of 5233
works of art to their original owners, under English super-
vision. During the removal of the pictures British sentries
were stationed along the galleries, and British soldiers stood
under arms on the Quadrangle and the Place du Carrouels
to protect the workmen. Subsequent gifts and private
legacies have since added priceless collections, the latest,
that of Thorny-Thierry, endowing the Museum with
numerous examples of the Barbizon school.

The ground floor, devoted to the plastic arts,

Germain Pilon.

Cardinal Virtues.

THE LOUVRE 305

contains in its antique section many excellent Greco-
Roman works, but relatively few of pure Greek workman-
ship. Among those few are the beautiful reliefs in the
Salle Grecque and, in the Salle de la Venus de Milo, the
best-known and most-admired example of Greek statues in
Europe, which gives its name to the hall. It was to this
exquisite creation of idealised womanhood that the poet
Heine dragged himself in May 1 848 to take leave of the
lovely idols of his youth, before he lay, never to raise
himself again, on his mattress-grave in the Rue d' Amsterdam.
"As I entered the noble hall," he writes, "where the most
blessed goddess of beauty, our dear Lady of Milo, stands
on her pedestal, I well-nigh broke down and lay at
her feet sobbing so piteously that even a heart of stone
must be moved to compassion. And the goddess gazed at
me compassionately, yet withal so comfortless as who
should say, ' Dost thou not see that I have no arms and
cannot help thee ? ' " It was a God with arms that poor
Heine ^ needed. An early work of a nobler and more
virile type meets the visitor as he mounts the staircase to
the Picture Gallery — the Victory of Samothrace, one of the
grandest examples of pure Greek art in its finer period.

Magnificent as the collection of antique sculpture is, the
little-visited Musee des Sculptures du Moyen age, et de la
Renaissance will be found of greater importance to the
student of French art. Here are examples, few but
admirable, of the growth of French sculpture from the
tenth to the sixteenth century contrasted with some master-
pieces of the Italian sculptors, including Michael Angelo's
so-called Slaves, being actually two of the. Virtues wrought
for the tomb of Pope Julius II. An interesting thirteenth-
century coloured statue of Childebert from St. Germain des
Pres, and a beautiful Death of the Virgin from the St.
Jacques de la Boucherie, later in style, are especially in-
teresting. Michel Colombe's fine relief of St. George and
the Dragon ; Germain Pilon's Theological Virtues from
the church of the Celestins, and the Cardinal Virtues in

3o6 PARIS AND ITS STORY

wood from St. Etienne du Mont ; Jean Goujon's Nymphs
of the Seine, and Diana and the Stag, will illustrate
the stubborn resistance made by the characteristic native
school of sculpture against, and its gradual yielding to, the
foreign influence of the Italian Renaissance. The gradual
decline of French sculpture during the seventeenth century,
its utter degradation in the reign of Louis XV., and signs o
its recovery in the revolutionary epoch, may be traced in th
Musee des Sculptures modernes.

The last edition (1903) of the Summary Catalogue of thj
pictures in the Louvre contains the titles of 2984 works,
apart from decorative ceiling and mural paintings. The
visitor must therefore needs make choice of his own
favourite schools or masters, for, if he were to devote but
one minute to a cursory examination of each exhibit,
twenty-five visits of two hours each would be needed to
view the whole collection. The pictures bear evidence of
the period during which they were amassed, for they are
rich in examples of the later Italian and Netherland schools
and relatively poor in those of the pre-Raphaelite masters.
But among the latter is Fra Angelico's Coronation of the
Virgin, which Vasari declared must have been painted
by the hand of one of the blessed spirits or angels repre-
sented in the picture, so unspeakably sweet and delightful
were their forms, so gentle and delicate their mien, so
glorious their colouration. " Even so," he adds, " and not
otherwise, must they be in heaven, and never do I gaze
on this picture without discovering fresh beauties, and
never do I withdraw my eyes from it sated with seeing.'*
Every phase in Raphael's development, from the Perugin
esque to the Roman periods, may be studied in th<
Louvre. No gallery in Europe — not excepting the A
cademia of Venice — can approach the Louvre in the wealth
of its Titians, and the same might almost be said of its
Veroneses. It contains the most famous portrait in the
world — Da Vinci's Monna Lisa — and some exquisite
examples of Luini's fresco and easel works. Among the

THE LOUVRE 307

rich collections of Tuscan and other Italian masters, we
may mention two charming frescoes by Botticelli. In
no gallery outside Spain are the Spanish artists, especially
Murillo, so well represented, and magnificent examples
of the later Flemings, Rubens and Van Dyck, adorn its
walls. Among the latter master's works is the Charles I.
(No. 1967), bought for the boudoir of Madame Dubarry
by Louis XV. on the fiction that it was a family picture,
since the page holding the horse was named Barry.
Michelet, in his History of the Revolution, says that he
never visited the Louvre without staying to muse before
this famous historic canvas.1 ' Among the later Dutch
masters, most of whom are adequately represented, are
some masterpieces by Rembrandt ; of the Germans, Holbein
is seen at his best in some superb portraits.

But the student of French history and lover of French
art will infallibly be drawn to the works of the native
French schools, and especially to those of the earlier masters.
For the extraordinary collection of French Primitifs of the
fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, exhibited at Paris in
1904, and the publication of Dimier's2 uncompromising and
powerful defence of those critics, who, like himself, deny
the existence of any indigenous French school of painting
whatsoever, have concentrated the attention of the artistic
world on this passionately debated controversy. The
writer well remembers, some twenty years since, being
impressed by certain characteristic traits in the few examples
of early French painting hung in the Louvre, and desiring
the opportunity of a wider field of observation. Such
opportunity has at length been given. Now, while it is

1 The picture subsequently found its way to the apartments of Louis
XVI., and followed him from Versailles to Paris. The attitude of this
ill-fated monarch towards his advisers, says Michelet, was much influ-
enced by a fixed idea that Charles I. lost his head for having made war
on his people, and that James II. lost his crown for having abandoned
them.

2 French Painting in the Sixteenth Century, by L. Dimier. London,
I904.

3o8

PARIS AND ITS STORY

quite true that most of the examples of the so-called
Franco-Flemish school exhibited in the Pavilion de Marsan
would pass, and have passed, unquestioned when seen
among a collection of Flemish paintings, yet when massed
together, they do display more or less well-defined extra-
Flemish and extra-Italian characteristics — a moden
feeling for nature and an intimate realism in the treat-
ment of landscape, a freer, more supple and mon
vivacious drawing of the human figure — that produce
cumulative effect which is almost irresistible, and may be
reasonably explained by the theory of a school of painters
expressing independent local feeling and genius. We
include, of course, the illuminated MSS. exhibited in the
Bibliotheque Nationale and the Books of Hours at Chantilb
by Fouquet and by Pol de Limbourg and his brothers.
The latter, by some authorities, are believed to hav<
been the nephews of Malouel, and to have studied theii
art at Paris. The theory of the existence of a nation?
French school, analogous to the ^/-revolutionary school
of painting, is, of course, untenable, for France, as a nation,
can scarcely be said to have existed, in the wider sense oi
the term, before the end of Louis XL's reign. Whei
that monarch came to the throne Paris and North France
had been sorely exhausted by the century of the Englisl
wars ; Burgundy was an independent state ; Provence,
with its capital Aix, and Avignon were independent
counties, ruled by the Counts of Provence and the Pope.
A more rational classification into schools would perhaps,
as Dimier has hinted, follow the lines of racial division-
French and Teutonic. For many of the Flemish artist*
were French in race, as, for instance, Roger Van der
Weyden, who was known to Italians as Rogerus Gallicus,
and called himself Roger de la Pasture.

The two great schools of Christian painting in Europe
were born, grew and flourished in the free cities of Flanders
in the north, and in the free cities of Italy in the south.
French masters, working in the provincial centres of Tours,

!. i O

rr. T t- ...... . t ■"/■■'

Juvenal des Ursins.

FOUQUET.

THE LOUVRE 309

Dijon, Moulins, Aix and Avignon, were inevitably subdued
by the dominant and powerful masters of the north and
south, and how far they succeeded in impressing a local and
racial individuality on their works is, and long will be, a
fruitful theme for constructive artistic criticism. The
famous triptych of Moulins, now with many other works
attributed to the painter of the Bourbons, known as the
Maitre de Moulins, who was working between 1480 and
1500, has long been accepted as a work by Ghirlandaio.
The well-known painting at the Glasgow Museum, a Prince
of Clevis, with his patron saint, St. Victor of Paris, now
assigned to the Maitre de Moulins, was recently exhibited
among the Flemish paintings at Bruges, and has long been
attributed to Hugo Van der Goes. The Burning Bush,
given to Nicolas Fromont, has been with equal confidence
classed as a Flemish work, and even ascribed to Van Eyck ;
and the Triumph of the Virgin, from Villeneuve-les-
Avignon, now on irrefragable evidence assigned to Enguer-
rand Charonton, has been successively attributed to
Van Eyck and Van der Meire. Even if all the paintings
which the patriotic bias of enthusiastic critics has at-
tributed to French masters, known or unknown, be
accepted, the continuity is broken by many gaps, which can
only be filled by assuming, after the fashion of biologists,
the existence of "missing links." Further researches will
doubtless elucidate this fascinating controversy.

Among the French Primitifs z possessed by the Louvre
may be mentioned the Martyrdom of St. Denis, and a
Pieta, Nos. 995 and 996, attributed wholly or in part
to Malouel, who was working about 1400 for Jean sans
Peur at Dijon. A Pieta (No. 998), now attributed to the
school of Paris of the late fifteenth century, contains an
interesting representation of the Louvre, the abbey of St,
Germain des Pres and of Montmartre, and has been ascribed

1 The picture, Une Dame presentee par la Madeleine, attributed to
the Maitre de Moulins at the Exhibition of Primitifs in the Pavilion de
Marsan has now been acquired by the Louvre.

3io PARIS AND ITS STORY

to a pupil of Van Eyck, and later to an Italian painter named
Fabrino. By Fouquet (about 141 5- 1480), the best known
of the early French masters, there are portraits of Juvenal
des Ursins and Charles VII. Two works (Nos. 1004 and
1005), the portraits of Pierre II., Duke of Bourbon, and of
Anne of Beaujean, catalogued under unknown masters, are
now assigned by many critics to the Maitre de Moulins.1
Nicholas Froment, who was working about 1480- 1500, is
represented by admirable portraits (No. 304 #.), of Good
King Rene and Jeanne de Laval, his second wife. Jean
Perreal, believed by M. Hulin to be identical with the
Maitre de Moulins, is also represented by a Virgin and
Child between two Donors (No. 1048).

The later master, of Flemish birth, known as Jean
Clouet, a painter of great delicacy, simplicity and charm,
who died between 1540 and 1541, having spent twenty-fiv(
years as court painter of France ; his brother, Clouet oi
Navarre ; and his son, Francois Clouet, who was his assistant
during the ten later years of his life, are all more or less
doubtfully represented. Nos. 126 and 127, portraits oi
Francis I., are attributed to Jean Clouet, or Jehannet as this
elusive personality is sometimes known ; Nos. 128 and 129,
two admirable portraits of Charles IX. and his queen Elizabeth
of Austria, to Francois Clouet ; No. 134, a portrait of Louis
de St. Gellais, is ascribed to Clouet of Navarre. Other
portraits executed at this period will be found on the walls,
and are of profound interest to the student of French history.

The two years' sojourn in France of Solario, at th<
invitation of the Cardinal d'Amboise, of Da Vinci al
the solicitation of Louis XII., and the foundation of th<
school of Fontainebleau by Rosso and Primaticcio, mark th(
eclipse of whatever schools of French painting were thei
existing, for the grand manner and dramatic power of th<

1 M. Lafenestre, the Director of the Louvre, informs the writer that
he sees no sufficient reason at present for modifying the tradition*
attributions of the pictures loaned by the Louvre to the Exhibition
the Primitifs in the Pavilion de Marsan.

THE LOUVRE 311

Italians, fostered by royal patronage, carried all before them.
Of Rosso, known to the French as Maitre Roux, the
Louvre has a Pieta and a classical subject — The Challenge of
the Pierides (Nos. 1485 and i486). Primaticcio is repre-
sented by some admirable drawings. But the sterility of
the Fontainebleau school may be inferred from the fact that
when Maj-ie de' Medici desired to have the Luxembourg
decorated with the events in the life of Henry IV., her late
husband, she was compelled to apply to a foreigner — Rubens.
Of Vouet (1 590-1 649), who is important as the leader
of the new French school of the seventeenth century, the
Louvre has some dozen examples, among them being his
masterpiece (No. 971) — The Presentation at the Temple.
Bestowing a passing attention on the lesser masters, and
pausing to appreciate the works of the three brothers Le
Nain, who stand pre-eminent for the healthy, sturdy
simplicity of their peasant types and scenes of lowly life, we
turn to Nicolas Poussin (1594- 1665), the greatest of the
seventeenth-century masters, who spent the whole of his
artistic career in Rome save two unhappy years (1640-
1642) at the French court, which his simple habits and
artistic conscience made intolerable to him. His exalted
and lucid conceptions, admirable art and fertility of inven-
tion may be adequately appreciated at the Louvre alone,
which holds nearly fifty examples of his work. The
beautiful and pathetic Shepherds of Arcady (No. 734) is
generally regarded as his masterpiece. A group of shepherds
in the fulness of health and beauty are arrested in their
enjoyment of life by the warning inscription on a tomb —
" Et in arcadia ego" ("I, too, once lived in Arcady").
Equally rich is the Louvre in works of Vouet's pupil, Lesueur
(16 1 7-1 655), one of the twelve ancients of the Royal
Academy of Painting and Sculpture. No greater contrast
could be imagined to the frank paganism of Poussin than
the works of this fervently religious and tender artist, whose
famous series from the life of St. Bruno is now placed in
Room XII. His careful application to this monumental

3i2 PARIS AND ITS STORY

task may be estimated by the fact that 146 preliminar
studies are preserved in the cabinet of drawings in th
Louvre. The decorative skill, fertility and industry of hi
contemporary and fellow-pupil Lebrun (16 17-1690), whom
Louis XIV. loved to patronise, may perhaps be better
appreciated at Versailles, but the Louvre displays the
celebrated series of the Life of Alexander, executed for the
Gobelins, and some score of his other works. His less
talented rival, Mignard (1612-1695), also a pupil of Vouet,
is seen at his best in the frescoes of the dome x of the Val de
Grace, but the oppressive influence of the Italian eclectics is
all too evident in his style. He excelled in portraiture,
and the visitor will not fail to remark the portraits of
Madame de Maintenon, and of the Grand Dauphin with his
wife and children. Louis XIV., who sat to him many times,
one day, towards the end of his life, asked, " Do you find
me changed ? " "Sire," answered the courtly painter, "I
only perceive a few more victories on your brow." W
may now observe the more grave and virile style of Philipp
de Champaigne of Brussels (1 602-1 674), who settled in Pari
at nineteen years of age, and may fairly be classed among the
French school. His intimate association with the austere
and pious Jansenists of Port Royal is traceable in the Las
Supper (No. 1928), and in his masterpiece, the portraits o
Mother Catherine Agnes Arnauld and his own daughter,
Sister Catherine (No. 1934), painted for the famous convent
He is perhaps better known for his portraits of Richelieu.
Claude Lorrain (1 600-1 682), the best known and most
appreciated of the seventeenth-century masters, and the
greatest of the early landscape painters, is seen in sixteen
examples.

Rarely has the numbing and corrupting influence o
royal patronage of art been more clearly demonstrated than
in the group of painters who interpreted the hollow state,
the sensuality and the more pleasant vices of the courts

1 One of the few non-dramatic compositions of Moliere is an eulogistic
poem on Mignard's decoration of this dome.

THE LOUVRE

3l3

of Louis XIV., of the Regency, and of Louis XV. But
among them, yet not of them, Watteau (1641-1721)
stands alone — Watteau the melancholy youth from French
Flanders, who invented a new manner of painting, and
became known as the Peintre des Scenes Galantes. These
scenes of coquetry, frivolity and amorous dalliance, with
their patched, powdered and scented ladies and gallants,
toying with life in a land where, like that of the Lotus
Eaters, it seems always afternoon, he clothes with a refined
and delicate vesture of grace and fascination. He has a
poetic touch for landscape and a tender, pathetic sense of
the tears in mortal things which make him akin to Virgil in
literature, for over the languorous and swooning air and
sun-steeped glades the coming tempest lours. His success,
as Walter Pater suggests, in painting these vain and
perishable graces of the drawing-room and garden comedy
of life with the delicate odour of decay which rises from the
soil, was probably due to the fact that he despised them.
The whole age of the Revolution lies between these irre-
sponsible and gay courtiers in the scenes galantes of Watteau
and the virile peasant scenes in the " epic of toil " painted
by Millet. Among the dozen paintings by Watteau in the
Louvre may be especially noted his Academy picture, the
Embarkation for Cythera (No. 982). His pupils, Pater
and Lancret, imitated his style, but were unable to soar to
the higher plane of their master's idealising spirit.

The eminent portrait painter, Rigaud (1659- 1743),
whose admirable Louis XIV. (No. 781) has been called " a
page of history," is represented by fifteen works, among
them his masterpiece, the portrait of Bossuet (No. 783).
A page of history too is the flaunting sensuality of Boucher
(1 703-1 770) and of Fragonard (1 732-1 806), who lavished
facile talents and ignoble industry in the service of the
depraved boudoir tastes of the Pompadours and Du Barrys
that ruled at Versailles. Productions of these artists in the
Louvre are numerous and important. A somewhat feeble
protest against the prevailing vulgarity and debasement of

3i4 PARIS AND ITS STORY

contemporary art was made by Chardin (i 699-1 779) anc
by the super-sentimental Greuze (172 5-1 805) in their por-
trayal of scenes of simple domestic life, of which man;
examples may be noted in the Louvre.

But from the studio of Boucher there issued towards
the end of the century the virile and revolutionary figure of
David (1 748-1 825), who burst like a thunderstorm from the
corrupt artistic atmosphere of the age, sweetening and
bracing French art for half a century. The successive
phases of this somewhat theatrical but potent genius may be
followed in the Louvre from the Horatii (No. 189) and the
Brutus (No. 191 ) — the revolutionary flavour of which saved
the painter's life during the Terror — to the later glorifications
of Napoleonic splendours. The candelabrum in David's best-
known work, the portrait of Madame Recamier, is said to
have been painted by his pupil Ingres (1 780-1 867), a com-
manding personality of the ^^/-revolutionary epoch. To
him and to his master is due the tradition of correct and
honest drawing which ever since has characterised the
modern French school of painting. Besides La Source,
the most famous figure drawing of the school, the Louvn
possesses many of his portraits and subject paintings. T<
appreciate duly the artist's power, however, the drawings ii
the Salle des desseins d' Ingres should be studied. N
master has evoked more reverence and admiration amonj
students. More than once Professor Legros has told th<
writer of the thrill of emotion that passed through him an<
all his fellow-students when they saw the aged master entei
the Ecole des Beaux Arts at Paris. Flandrin, the chief
religious painter of the school, is poorly represented ii
the Louvre, and must be studied in the churches of St.
Germain des Pres and St. Vincent de Paul.

A two-fold study of absorbing interest to the artisti<
mind may be prosecuted in the Louvre — the development
of the modern Romantic school of French painters froi
Gericault's famous Raft of the Medusa, painted in 18 19,
through the works of Delacroix and Delaroche ; and th(

* THE LOUVRE 315

revival of landscape painting, under the stimulus of the
English artists Bonnington and Constable, by Rousseau
(18 12-1867), the all-father of the modern French landscape
school, and the little band of enthusiasts that grouped
themselves around him at Barbizon. Corot, Daubigny,
Diaz, Troyon and the grand and solemn Millet, once
despised and rejected of men, have now won fame and
appreciation. No princely patronage shone upon them nor
smoothed their path ; they wrought out the beauty of
their souls under the hard discipline of poverty and in
loving and awful communion with nature. They have
revealed to the modern world new tones of colour in the
air and the forest and the plain, and a new sense of the
pathos and beauty in simple lives and common things.

The artistic treasures we have thus briefly and
summarily reviewed form but a part of the inestimable
possessions of the Louvre. Collections of drawings ;
ivories ; reliquaries and sanctuary vessels ; pottery ;
jewellery ; furniture (among which is the famous bureau du
roiy the most wonderful piece of cabinet work in Europe) ;
bronzes ; Greek, Egyptian, Assyrian, Chaldean and
Persian antiquities (including the unique and magnificent
frieze of the archers from the palace of Darius I.), all are
crowded with objects of interest and beauty, even to the
inexpert visitor.

Of the gorgeous palace of the Tuileries, with its
inharmonious but picturesque fagade, stretching across the
western limit of the Louvre from the Pavilion de Flore to
the Pavilion de Marsan, not one stone is left on another.
We remember it after its fiery purgation by the Commune
in 1 87 1, a gaunt shell blackened and ruined, fitting emblem
of the wreck which the enthroned wantonness and corruption
of the Second Empire had made of France.

North of the Louvre is the Palais Royal, once the
gayest, now the dullest scene in Paris. This quarter of
Richelieu and of Mazarin drew to itself the wealth and
fashion of the city in its migration westward from the Marais

316 PARIS AND ITS STORY

during the times of Louis XIII. and of the Regency of
Anne of Austria. Nearly all the princely hotels that
crowded the district have long since given place to com-
mercial houses and shops. The mansions of the two great
ministers remain as the Conseil d'Etat and the Bibliotheque
Nationale, but all that is left of the immense Hotel de
Colbert in the Rue Vivienne is a name — the Passage
Colbert. The same is true of the vast area of lands and
buildings of the convent of the Filles de St. Thomas, of
which the present Bourse and the Place before it only
occupy a part. At the corner, however, of the Rue des
Petits Champs and St. Anne the fine double facade of the
Hotel erected by Lulli with money borrowed from Moliere
may be seen, bearing the great musician's coat-of-arms — a
design of trumpets, lyres and cymbals. Further west,
Napoleon's Rues de Castiglione and de la Paix, the Regent
Street of Paris, run south and north from the Place Vendome,
intended by its creator Louvois to be the most spacious in
the city. A monumental parallelogram of public offices was
to enclose the Place, but Versailles engulfed the king's
resources and the ambitious scheme was whittled down, th<
area much reduced, and the site and foundations of the ne^
buildings were handed over to the Ville. What the Allie«
failed to do in 1 8 1 4 the Commune succeeded in doing in 1 871
and the boastful Column of Vendome, a pitiful plagiarisi
of Trajan's Column at Rome, was laid in the dust, onrj
however to be raised again by the Third Republic in 1875.
The Rue Castiglione leads down to the Terrace of the
Feuillants overlooking the Tuileries gardens, all that is
left of the famous monastery and grounds where Lafayette's
club of constitutional reformers met. The beautiful
gardens remain much as Le Notre designed them for Louis
XIV., and every spring the orange trees, some of them
dating back it is said to the time of Francis I., are brought
forth from the orangery to adorn the central avenue, and the
gardens become vocal with many voices of children at their
games — French children with their gentle humour and

Chardin.

Grace before Meat.

THE TUILERIES GARDENS 317

sweet, refined play. Right and left of the central avenue,
the two marble exhedrse may still be seen which were
erected in 1793 for the elders who presided over the
floral celebrations of the month of Germinal by the
children of the Republic.

The Place Louis XV (now de la Concorde), with its
setting of pavilions adorned with groups of statuary repre-
senting the chief cities of France, was created by Gabriel in
1 763-1 772 on the site of a dreary, marshy waste used as a
depot for marble. The Place was adorned in 1763 with an
equestrian statue of Louis XV., elevated on a pedestal which
was decorated at the corners by statues of the cardinal
virtues. Mordant couplets, two of which we transcribe,
affixed on the base, soon expressed the judgment of the
Parisians : —

a O la belle statue ! O le beau pUdestal !
Les vertus sont a pied, le vice est a chevat" x

a II est ici come a Versailles

II est sans cceur et sans entr allies.'" 2

After the fall of the monarchy the Place was known
as the Place de la Revolution, and in 1792, Louis XV.
with the other royal simulacra in bronze having been
forged into the cannon that thundered against the allied
kings of Europe, a plaster statue of Liberty was erected,
at whose side the guillotine mowed down king and
queen, revolutionist and aristocrat in one bloody harvest
of death, ensanguining the very figure of the goddess
herself, who looked on with cold and impassive mien.
She too fell, and in her place stood a fascis of eighty-
three spears, symbolising the unity of the eighty-three
departments of France. In 1795 the Directory changed the

1 " O the fair statue ! O the fair pedestal !

The Virtues are on foot : Vice is on horseback.' '

2 " He is here as at Versailles

Without heart and without bowels."

3i 8 PARIS AND ITS STORY

name to Place de la Concorde, and again in 1799 a seate
statue of Liberty holding a globe was set up. In the
hollow globe a pair of wild doves built their nest — a futile
augury, for in 1801 Liberty II. was broken in pieces, and
the model for a tall granite column erected in its place by
Napoleon I. One year passed and this too disappeared.
After the Restoration, among the other inanities came, in
1 8 16, a second statue of Louis XV., and the Place resumed
its original name. Ten years later an expiatory monument
to Louis XVI. was begun, only to be swept away with other
Bourbon lumber by the July Revolution of 1830. At
length the famous obelisk from Luxor, after many
vicissitudes, was elevated in 1836 where it now stands.

The Place as we behold it dates from 1854, when the
deep fosses which surrounded it in Louis XV. 's time, and
which were responsible for the terrible disaster that attended
the wedding festivities of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette,
were filled up, and other improvements and embellishments
effected. The vast space and magnificent vistas enjoyed
from this square are among the finest urban spectacles
Europe. To the north, on either side of the broad Ru
Royale which opens to the Madeleine, stand Gabriel's fin
edifices (now the Ministry of Marine and the Cercle de 1
Rue Royale), designed to accommodate foreign ambassadors
To the south is the Palais Bourbon, now the Chamber o
Deputies ; to the east are the gardens of the Tuileries, an
to the west is the stately Grande Avenue of the Champ
Elysees rising to the colossal Arch of Triumph crowning the
eminence of the Place de l'Etoile. As our eyes travel along
the famous avenue, memories of the military glories and of
the threefold humiliation of Imperial France crowd upon us.
For down its ample way there marched in 18 14 and 18 15
two hostile and conquering armies to occupy Paris, and in
1 871 the immense vault of the Arc de Triomphe, an arch of
greater magnitude than any raised to Roman Caesars, echoed
to the shouts of another exultant foreign host, mocking as
they strode beneath it at the names of German defeats

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THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE 319

inscribed on its stones. And on the very Place de la
Concorde, German hussars waltzed in pairs to the brazen
music of a Uhlan band, while a line of French sentries across
the entrance to the Tuileries gardens gazed sullenly on.

To the south of the Champs Elysees is the Cours de la
Reine, planted by Catherine de' Medici, for two years the
most fashionable carriage drive in Paris. The charming
Maison Francois I. brought from Moret, stone by stone, in
1826 stands re-erected at the further corner of the Cours.
To the north, in the Cours de Gabriel, a fine gilded grille,
surmounted with the arms of the Republic, gives access to
the Elysee, the official residence of the President. It was
once Madame Pompadour's favourite house in Paris, and
the piece of land she appropriated from the public to round
off her gardens is still retained in its grounds. In the
Avenue Montaigne (once the Allee des Veuves, a retired
walk used by widows during their term of seclusion) Nos.
5 1 and $3 stand on the site of the notorious Bal Mabille, ' the
temple of the bacchanalia of the gay world of the Second
Empire. In 1764 the Champs Elysees ended at Chaillot, an
old feudal property which Louis XI. gave to Phillipe de
Comines in 1450, and which in 1651 sheltered the unhappy
widow of Charles I. Here Catherine de' Medici built a
chateau, but chateau and a nunnery of the Filles de Sainte
Marie, founded by the English queen, disappeared in 1790.
As we descend the Rue de Chaillot and pass the Trocadero we
see across the Pont de Jena the gilded dome of the Invalides
and the vast field of Mars, the scene of the Feast of Pikes,
and now encumbered by the relics of four World's Fairs.

The Paris we have rapidly surveyed is, mainly, enclosed
by the inner boulevards, which correspond to the ramparts
of Louis XIII. on the north demolished by his successor
between 1676 and 1707, and the line of the Philip Augustus
wall and the Boulevard St. Germain on the south. Beyond

1 A description of this and of other public balls of the Second Empire
will be found in Taine's Notes sur Paris, which has been translated
into English.

32o PARIS AND ITS STORY

this historic area are the outer boulevards which mark the
octroi wall of Louis XVI. ; further yet are the Thiers wall
and fortifications of 1 841. Within these wider boundaries is
the greater Paris of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, of
profound concern to the economical and social student, but
of minor interest to the ordinary traveller. The vogue of
the brilliant and gay inner boulevards of the north bank so
familiar to the foreigner in Paris is of comparatively recent
growth. In the early nineteenth century the boulevard
from the Place de la Madeleine to the Rue Cambon was
almost deserted by day and dangerous by night — a vast
waste, the proceeds of the confiscated lands of the Filles
de la Conception. About the same time the fashionable
cafes were migrating from the Palais Royal to the Boulevard
des Italiens, south of which was built the Theatre of the
Comedie Italienne, afterwards known as the Opera Comique.
Its facade was turned away from the boulevard lest the sus-
ceptible artists should be confounded with the ordinary
"comediens of the boulevard." From the Boulevard
Montmatre to the Boulevard St. Martin followed lines of
private hotels, villas, gardens and convent walls. A great
mound which separated the Boulevard St. Martin from the
Boulevard du Temple still existed, and was not cleared
away until 1853. From 1760 to 1862 the Boulevard du
Temple was a centre of pleasure and amusement, where
charming suburban houses and pretty gardens alternated
with cheap restaurants, hotels, theatres, cafes, marionette
shows, circuses, tight-rope dancers, waxworks, and cafes-
chantants. In 1835, so l^rid. were the dramas played there,
that the boulevard was popularly known as the Boulevard du
Crime. But the expression of the dramatic and musical
genius and social life of the Parisians in their higher forms is
of sufficient importance to merit a concluding chapter.

CHAPTER XX

THE COMEDIE FRANCHISE THE OP^RA SOME FAMOUS

CAFES CONCLUSION

As early as 1341 the Rue des Jongleurs was inhabited by
minstrels, mimes and players. They were men of tender
heart, for in 1331 two jongleurs, Giacomo of Pistoia and
Hugues of Lorraine, were touched by beholding a paralysed
woman forsaken by the way, and determined to found a
refuge for the sick poor : they hired a room and furnished
it with some beds, but being unable to provide funds for main-
tenance, their warden collected alms from the charitable. In
1332, at a meeting of the Jongleurs of Paris, Giacomo and
Hugues were present, and urged the claims of the poor upon
their fellows. The players decided to found a guild with a
hospital and church dedicated to St. Julian of the Minstrels,1
but the Bishop of Paris, doubting their financial powers,
required a certain sum to be paid within four years, in order
to endow a chaplaincy and to compensate the cure of St.
Merri. The players more than fulfilled their promise ;
their capitulary was confirmed by pope and king, and in
1343 they elected William the Flute Player and Henry of
Mondidier as administrators ; the servants of the Muses
were therefore of no small importance in the fourteenth
century. As early as 1398 the Confraternity of the Passion
is known to have existed, and so charmed the people of
Paris by its Passion Plays that the hour of vespers was

IIn 1664 we find Guilliaume roy des Menestriers, the viol players and
masters of dancing, acting in the name of the foundation against the
usurpations of the Fathers of the Christian Doctrine. In 1720 the title
of the church was confirmed by royal decree as St. Julian of the Minstrels.
The church and the street of the minstrels were swept away to make the
Rue Rambuteau.

x 321

322

PARIS AND ITS STORY

advanced to allow the faithful time to attend the representa-
tions, which lasted from 1.30 to 5 o'clock without any
interval. In 1548 the Confraternity was performing at the
Hotel de Bourgogne, the old mansion of Jean Sans Peur, for
it was then forbidden to play the mystery of the Passion any
more, and limited to profane, decent and lawful pieces, which
were not to begin before 3 o'clock. From 1566 to 1676 I
the Comedians of the Hotel de Bourgogne, as they were !

-*.. JOE

ARCHES IN THE COURTYARD OF THE HOTEL CLUNY.

then called, continued their performances, and many ordin-
ances were needed to purify the stage, to prevent licentious
pieces and the use of words of double entente. Competitive
companies performed at the Hotel de Cluny, and in the Rue
Michel le Comte, in those days a narrow street which
became so blocked by carriages and horses during the per-
formances that the inhabitants complained of being unable
to reach their houses, and of suffering much from thieves
and footpads. It was at the Hotel de Bourgogne that the
masterpieces of Corneille and Racine — Le Cidy Andromaque
and Phedre — were first performed.

THE COMEDIE FRANCAISE 323

At No. 1 2 Rue Mazarine an inscription marks the site of
the Tennis Court of the Metayers near the fosses of
the old Porte de Nesle, where in 1643 a cultured young
fellow, Jean Baptiste Poquelin, better known as Moliere,
son of a prosperous tradesman of Paris, having associated
himself with the Bejart family of comedians, opened the
Illustre Theatre. The venture met with small success, for
soon Moliere crossed the Seine and migrated to the Port St.
Paul. Thence he returned to the Faubourg St. Germain
and rented the Tennis Court of the Croix Blanche. Ill
fortune still followed him, for in 1645, una°le to Pay his
candlemaker, the illustrious player saw the inside of the
debtors' prison at the Petit Chatelet, and the company must
needs borrow money to release their director. In 1646 the
players left for the Provinces and were not seen again in
Paris for twelve years.

The theatre of those days was innocent of stage
upholstery, the exiguous decorations being confined to
some hangings of faded tapestry on the stage and a few
tallow candles with tin reflectors. A chandelier holding
four candles hung from the roof and was periodically
lowered and drawn up again during the performance ; any
spectator near by snuffed the candles with his fingers. The
orchestra consisted of a flute and a drum, or two violins.
The play began at two o'clock ; the charges for entrance
were twopence half-penny for a standing place in the pit,
fivepence for a seat. On 24th October 1658 Moliere,
having won distinguished patronage, was honoured by a
royal command to play Corneille's Nicodeme before the
court at the Louvre. After the play was ended Moliere
prayed to be allowed to perform a little piece of his own —
Le Docteur Amoureux — and so much amused Louis XIV.
that the players were commanded to settle at Paris and
permitted to use the theatre of the Hotel de Bourbon three
days a week in alternation with the comedians of the opera.
Here it was that the first essentially French comedy, Les
Precieuses Ridicules, was performed with such success that

324 PARIS AND ITS STORY

after the second performance the prices were doublec
During the first performance an old playgoer is said
to have risen and exclaimed, "Courage! Moliere, voile
de la bonne comedie ! "

After the demolition of the Hotel de Bourbon, the
players were settled in Richelieu's- theatre at the Palais
Royal, where they performed for the first time on
20th January 1661. During this period of transition
Moliere was again invited to play before the king in the
Salle des Gardes (Caryatides) at the Louvre, and so keen
was the interest in the new bonne comedie that the almost
dying Mazarin had his chair dragged into the hall that he
might be present.

In 1665 the king appointed Moliere valet du roi at a
salary of a thousand livres, subsidised the company to the
amount of seven thousand livres a year, and they were
thenceforth known as the " Troupe du Roi." Free from
pecuniary anxiety, the great dramatist wrote his master-
pieces, Le Misanthrope, Tartuffe, UAvare, Le Bourgeois
Gentilhomme, and Les Femmes Savantes.

In 1673, after MoHere's death, the Troupe du Roi joined
the players of the Marais and rented the famous Theatre
Guenegaud in the old Tennis Court of La Bouteille
which had been fitted up for the first performances
of French opera in 1 671-1672. The united companies
played there until 1680, when the long-standing jealousy
which had existed between the Troupe du Roi and the
players of the Hotel de Bourgogne was finally dissipated
by the fusion of the two companies to form the Comedie
Franchise. For nine years the famous Comedie used the
Theatre Guenegaud, whose site may be seen marked
with an inscription at 42 Rue Mazarine. In 1689 tne
players were evicted from the Theatre Guenegaud,
owing to the machinations of the Jansenists at the
College Mazarin, and rented the Tennis Court de
I'Etoile near the Boulevard St. Germain, now No. 14
Rue de TAncienne Comedie, which they opened on

THE COMEDIE FRANCAISE 325

1 8th April 1689 by a performance of Phedre and
Le Medecin malgre lui. Here the Comedie Francaise
remained until 1770. In 1781 they were playing at
the Theatre de la Nation (now Odeon.)1 In 1787
a theatre was built in the Rue Richelieu for the Varietes
AmusanteSy or the Palais Varietes, where the new Theatre
Francais2 now stands, a little to the west of Richelieu's
theatre of the Palais Cardinal, whose site is indicated by
an inscription at the corner of the Rues de Valois and St.
Honore.

Soon the passions evoked by the Revolutionary move-
ment were felt on the boards, and the staid old Comedie
Franchise was rent by rival factions. The performance of
Chenier's patriotic tragedy, Charles IX. , on 4th November
1789, was made a political demonstration, and the pit
acclaimed Talma with frantic applause as he created the
role of Charles IX., and the days of St. Bartholomew
were acted on the stage. The bishops tried to stop the
performances, and priests refused absolution to those of their
penitents who went to see them. The Royalists among the
Comedians replied by playing a loyalist repertory, Cinna
and Athalie, amid shouts from the pit for William Tell
and the Death of C<esar, and Moliere's famous house
became an arena where political factions strove for mastery.
Men went to the theatre armed as to a battle. Every
couplet fired the passions of the audience, the boxes crying,
" Vive le roi ! " to be answered by the hoarse voices of the
pit, " Vive la nation ! " Shouts were raised for the busts of
Voltaire and of Brutus : they were brought from the
foyer and placed on the stage. The very kings of shreds
and patches on the boards came to blows and the Roman toga
concealed a poignard. For a time " idolatry " triumphed at
the Nation, but Talma and the patriots at length won. A
reconciliation was effected, and at a performance of the

*It became the second Theatre Francais in 1819.
2 It became the Theatre Francais in 1799, and was burnt down in
1900.

326 PARIS AND ITS STORY

Taking of the Bastille, on 8th January 179 1, Tain
addressed the audience saying that they had composed theii
differences. Naudet, the Royalist champion, was recal
citrant, and amid furious shouts from the pit, " On yoi
knees, citizen ! " at length gave way, embraced Talma with
ill-grace, and on the ensuing nights the Revolutionary
repertory, The Conquest of Liberty, Rome Saved, and
Brutus held the boards. The court took their revenge
at the opera where the boxes called for the airs, " O Richard,
O monroi," and <c Regne sur un peuple fidele," while the king,
queen and dauphin appeared in the box amid shouts of
" Vive le roi I " On 1 3th January of the same year the restric-
tions on the opening of playhouses were revoked, and by
November no less than seventy-eight theatres were registered
on the books of the Hotel de Ville. The Theatre
Francais became the Theatre de la Republique, and during
the early months of '93, when the fate of the monarchy
hung in the balance, the most popular piece was Catherine,
or The Farmer s Fair Wife [La belle Fermiere). Fenelon, a
new tragedy, was often played, and on 6th February citizei
Talma acted Othello for his benefit performance.

In the stormy year of 1830, when the July Revolutior
made an end for ever of the Bourbon cause in France, th(
Comedie Franchise was again a scene of fierce and bittei
strife. Hernani, a drama in verse, had been accepted from th(
pen of Victor Hugo, the brilliant and exuberant master
a new Romantic school of poets, who had determined t(
emancipate themselves from the traditions, which had lon|
since hardened into literary dogmas, of the Classical scho<
of the siecle de Louis Quatorze. On the night of the firsl
performance each side, Romanticists and Classicists, hac
packed the theatre with their partisans, and the air w;
charged with feeling. The curtain rose, but less than tw(
lines were uttered before the pent-up passions of the audienc
burst forth : —

" Dona Josefa — f Serait-ce deja lui ? C'est bien a l'escalier
Derobe ' "

THE COMEDIE FRANCAISE 327

The last word had not passed the actress's lips when a howl
of execration rose from the devotees of Racine, outraged by
the author's heresy in permitting an adjective to stray into
the second line of the verse. The Romanticists, led by
Theophile Gautier, answered in withering blasphemies, and
soon the pit became a pandemonium of warring factions.
Night after night the literary sects renewed their contests,
and the representations, as Victor Hugo said, became battles
rather than performances. The year 1830 was the '93 of
the Romantic school, but the passions it evoked have long
since been calmed, and Hernani and Le Rot s' Amuse, which
latter was suppressed by the Government of Louis Philippe
after the first performance, have taken their place in the
classic repertory of the Theatre Frangais beside the tragedies
of Racine and Corneille.

A curious development of dramatic art runs parallel to
the movement we have traced. One of the earliest Corpora-
tions of Paris was that of the famous Basoche,1 or law-clerks
and practitioners, at the Palais de Justice, who were organised
in a little realm of their own, subject to the superior power
of the Parlement. The Basoche had its own king (roi de la
Basoche), chancellor, masters, almoners, secretaries, treasurers
and a number of minor officials, made its own laws and
punished offenders. It had its own money, seal, and arms
composed of an escritoire on a field fleur- -de-Use y surmounted
by a casque and morion. It had, moreover, jurisdiction
over the farces, sottises and moralith played by its members
before the public. The clerks of the Basoche organised
processions and plays for public festivals, and were compen-
sated for out-of-pocket expenses if for any reason the cele-
brations were cancelled by the Parlement. If the date, 6th
January 1482, of one of these performances in the Grande
Salle of the Palais de Justice, so vividly described by Victor
Hugo in Notre Dame, be correct, the prohibition by the
Parlement in 1477, renewed in 1478, of any performances
of farce ', sottise, or moralite by the king of the Basoche in the
1 The word is derived from basilica, a law court.

328 PARIS AND ITS STORY

in of

Palais or the Chatelet, or elsewhere in public, under pain
a whipping with withies and banishment, must have been
soon withdrawn. In 1538 the Basoche was ordered to
deliver to the Parlement any plays they proposed to per
form, that they might be examined and emended (visites et
reformes) and to act in public, only such plays as had been
approved by the court.

The clerks of the Basoche were clothed in yellow an
blue taffety, and, on extraordinary occasions, in gorgeou
costumes varying according to the company to which the
belonged. Each captain had the form and style of his com
pany's dress painted on vellum, and whoso desired to join
signed his name beneath, and agreed to be subject to a fine
of ten crowns if he made default. In 1528 a famous trial
took place before the Parlement on the occasion of an appeal
by one of the clerks against the chancellor of the Basoche,
who had seized his cloak in payment of a fine and costs.
After many pleadings by celebrated lawyers, the case wa
referred back to the king of the Basoche, with instruction
that he was to treat his subjects amiably.

The treasurers of the Basoche were charged with th
cost of the annual planting of the May tree in the Cour d
Mai of the Palais. Towards the end of May the processio:
of the Basoche wended its way to the Forest of Bondy
where halt was made under the Orme aux harangues (el
of the speeches). Here their procureur made an oratio
and demanded from the officer of woods and forests tw
trees of his own choice in the king's name, which were carrie
to Paris amid much playing of drums and fifes and trumpets.
On the last Saturday in May the ceremony of the planting
took place in the court of the palace, the preceding year's
tree, standing to the right of the entrance, was felled and
removed, and the more flourishing of the two brought from
the forest was planted in its stead.

Anne of Austria, to whom Moliere dedicated one of his
plays, was so devoted an admirer of the theatre that even
during the period of court mourning for her royal husband

THE BASOCHE 329

she was unable to renounce her favourite pleasure and
witnessed the plays at the Palais Royal concealed behind her
ladies. Mazarin, courtier that he was, flattered her passion
for the drama by introducing a company of Italian opera-
singers, who in 1647 performed La Finta Pazza at the
Hotel de Bourbon.

The new entertainment met with instant success, and the
French were spurred to emulation by the music and voices
of the foreign performers. Anne's music masters, Lambert
and Cambert, set to music a piece written by the Abbe
Perrin, who was attached to the court of the Duke of
Orleans, and this musical comedy was performed with
brilliant success before the young king at Vincennes.
Encouraged by Mazarin, Perrin and Cambert joined the
Marquis of Sourdeac, a clever mechanician, and obtained
permission in 1669 to open an Academy of Music, for so
the new venture was called, and works were performed
which vied in attraction with those of the Italians. Perrin
now obtained the sole privilege of producing operas in Paris
and other French towns, and in 1671-1672 we find the
entrepreneurs giving performances of Pomone among other
" Comedies Frangaises en Musique " in the theatre of the
Hotel de Guenegaud. Perrin having disagreed with
his partners, the privilege of performing opera was
next transferred to a young Italian musician named Lulli,
who had entered the service of Mademoiselle (daughter
of the Duke of Orleans) as a kitchen boy, but having
developed an extraordinary aptitude for the violin was
put under a master, and became one of the greatest
performers of the day. He entered the king's service,
won the protection of Madame de Montespan, and so
charmed Louis by his talents that his fortune was assured.
Lulli's works were first given at the Tennis Court of
Bel-air, in the Rue Vaugirard, and a clause having been
inserted in the charter permitting the nobles of the court
to take part in the representations without derogation, a
performance of Love and Bacchus was given before the

330 PARIS AND ITS STORY

king in which the Duke of Monmouth was associated with
seven French nobles.

When Moliere's company of comedians left the theatre
of the Palais Royal in 1673, Lulli's "Academy" was
established in their place, and the Palais Royal Theatre
became the Royal Opera House until 1787, with an interval
caused by the rebuilding after the fire of 1763. In 1697
the Italians were forbidden to perform any more in Paris,
and French opera enjoyed a monopoly of royal favour,
until the Regent recalled the Italians in 171 6.

The Academie de Musique, or French Opera, subse-
quently migrated to the Salle d'Opera, at the Hotel
Louvois, on the site of the present Square Louvois. It was
in this house that the Duke of Berri was assassinated in
1820. The Government decreed the demolition of the
building, and an opera house was hurriedly erected in the
Rue Lepelletier. This inconvenient, stuffy Hall of the
Muses, so familiar to the older generation of opera-goers,
was at length superseded by the present luxurious temple in

1874.

The early French operas were of the nature of elaborate
ballets, based invariably on mythological subjects, and,
indeed, the ballet up to recent times, when the reforming
influence of Wagner's music-dramas made itself felt, has
always formed the more important part of every operatic
performance. Only when the curtain rose on the scenes de
ballet did chatter cease, for as Taine remarked, " he public ne
se trouve emoustille que par le ballet " (" The public only
brightens up at the ballet "), and the traditional habit of
Society was expressed in the formula, c< On necoute que le
ballet''' ("One only listens to the ballet "). Moliere wrote
a tragedie-ballet, a pastorale heroique, a pastorale comique,
and eight comedies-ballets, in one of which, Le Sicilian^ the
king himself, the Marquis of Villeroi and other courtiers
performed with Moliere and his daughter. In 1681 the
permission already given to the princes and other nobles to
take part in the ballets without derogation was extended to

■■< ■ '"^l~ " - .,

Arc de Triomphe.

THE OPERA 331

the ladies of the court, who in that year performed the
Triomphe de l} Amour. The innovation proved most success-
ful, and soon affected the public stage, where, as at the
court, up to that period male performers alone were
tolerated. Mdlle. de la Fontaine was the first of the famous
danseuses of the Paris opera, and her portrait, with those of
some score of her successors, still adorn the foyer de la danse.
The opera was a social rather than a musical function, and
the old foyer, until the fall of the Second Empire, was the
favourite meeting-place during the season of royal and
distinguished personages, courtiers, ministers, ambassadors,
and, indeed, of all French society of the male persuasion.
Such was the passion for the opera during the reign of
Louis XVI. that fashionable devotees would journey from
Brussels to Paris in time to see the curtain rise and return to
Brussels when the performance was over, travelling all night.

c'In fair weather or foul," says Diderot in the opening
lines of the Neveu de Rameau "it is my custom, towards
five in the evening, to stroll about the Palais Royal, where
I muse silently on politics, love, taste or philosophy. If
the weather be too cold or wet, I take refuge in the Cafe
de la Regence, and there I amuse myself by watching the
chess players ; for Paris is the one place in the world, and
the Cafe de la Regence the one place in Paris, where chess
is played perfectly. The Cafe Procope and the Regence
have been termed the Adam and Eve of the cafes of Paris.
The former was the first coffee-house seen there, and was
opened by one Gregory of Aleppo and a Sicilian, Procopio
by name, shortly before the Comedie Franchise was trans-
ferred in 1689 to its new house in the present Rue de
l'Ancienne Comedie. The famous cafe, where, too, ices
were first sold, was situated opposite the theatre, and at
once became a kind of ante-chamber to the Comedie,
crowded with actors and dramatic authors, among whom
were seen Voltaire, Crebillon and Piron.

The Cafe de la Place du Palais Royal, the original apel-

332 PARIS AND ITS STORY

lation of the Regence, was founded shortly after the Procope
and became the favourite haunt of literary men, and especially
of chess-players. Here the author of Gil Bias beheld, in a
vast salon brilliant with lustres and mirrors, a score of
silent and grave personages, pousseurs de bois (wood-shovers),
playing at chess on marble tables, surrounded by others
watching the games, amid a silence so profound that the
movement of the pieces could alone be heard. If, however,
we may credit a description of the famous hall of the
chequer-board published in Fraser's Magazine, December
1840, the tempers of the players must have suffered a dis-
tressing deterioration since the times of Le Sage, for
when the author of the article entered the cafe, in the winter
of 1839, his ears were assailed by a " roar like that of the
Regent's Park beast show at feeding-time." So great was
the renown of the Parisian players that strangers from the
four corners of the earth — Poles, Turks, Moors and
Hindoos — made journeys to the Cafe de la Regence as to an
arena where victory was esteemed final and complete. Nol
even on the Rialto of Venice, says the writer in Frasers, ii
its most famous time, could so great a mixture of garbs and
tongues be met. Here, among other literary monarchs
who visited the cafe, came Voltaire and D'Alembert.
Jean Jacques Rousseau, dressed as an Armenian, drew
such crowds that the proprietor was forced to appeal for
police protection, and the eccentric philosopher, while
absorbed in play, was furtively sketched by St. Aubin.
Here came, incogniti, the Emperor Joseph of Austria, brother
of Marie Antoinette, and Emperor Paul of Russia, the latter
betraying his imperial quality by tossing to the waiter a
golden louis he had won by betting on a game. The cafe
was the favourite resort of Robespierre, a devoted chess-player,
who lived close by in the Rue St. Honore(No. 398), and of
the young Napoleon Bonaparte when waiting on fortune in
Paris. The latter is said to have been a rough, impatient
player, and a bad loser. Hats were kept on to economise
space, and on a winter Sunday afternoon a chair was worth

FAMOUS CAFES 333

a monarch's ransom : when a champion player entered,
hats were raised, and fifty challengers leapt from their seats
to offer a game. So proud was the proprietor of the dis-
tinction conferred on his cafe, that long after Rousseau's and
Voltaire's deaths he would call to the waiter, "Serve Jean
Jacques ! " " Look to Voltaire ! " if any customers sat down
at the tables where the famous philosophers had been wont to
sit. While the big game of political chess was being enacted
in the streets of Paris during the three days of July 1 830, the
players of the cafe are said to have calmly pushed their wooden
pieces undisturbed by the fighting outside, during which the
front of the building was injured. The original cafe no
longer exists, for in 1852 the Regence was removed from the
Place du Palais Royal to the Rue St. Honore. Last year
the writer was startled by an amazing exuviation of the some-
what faded cafe, which had assumed a new decoration of
most brilliant and approved modernity ; it now vies in
splendour with the cafes of the Boulevards. A few chess-
players still linger on and are relegated to a recessed room.

Shortly after the foundation of the Regence another
cafe was opened by Widow Marion on the old Carrefour de
l'Opera, where the Academicians gathered and discussed of
matters affecting the French language. At Guadot's, on the
Place de l'Ecole, was heard the clank of spur and sabre.
Soon every phase of Parisian social life found its appropriate
coffee-house, and by the end of the eighteenth century some
nine hundred cafes were established in the city.

But this new development was regarded with small
favour by the Government, always suspicious of any form
of social and intellectual activity. Politics were forbidden,
and spies haunted the precincts of the chief cafes. Ill fared
the man, however distinguished, whose political feelings
overmastered his prudence, for an invidious phrase was not
infrequently the password to the Bastille. It was difficult
even to discuss philosophy, and the lovers of wisdom who
met at Procope's were reduced to inventing a jargon for its
principal terms — Monsieur l'Etre for God, Javotte for

334

PARIS AND ITS STORY

Religion and Margot for the Soul — to put spies off the
scent, not always with success. No newspapers were pro-
vided until the Revolutionary time, when the Gazette or the
Journal became more important than the coffee : the cafes of
the Palais Royal were then transformed into so many political
clubs, where every table served as a rostrum of fiery de-
clamation, for the agitated and eventful summer of 1789
was a rainy one, to the good fortune of the Palais Royal
houses. No. 46 Rue Richelieu stands on the site of the
Cafe de Foy, the senior and most famous of them, founded
in 1 700. It extended through to the gardens of the Palais
Royal, and in early times its proprietor was the only one
permitted to place chairs and tables on the terrace. There,
in the afternoon, would sit the finely-apparelled sons of Mars,
and other gay dogs of the period, with their scented perukes,
amber vinaigrettes, silver-hilted swords and gold-headed
canes, quizzing the passers-by. In summer evenings, after
the conclusion of the opera at 8.30., the bonne compagnie in
full dress would stroll under the great overarching trees of
the grand allee, or sit at the cafes listening to open-air
performers, sometimes remaining on moonlight nights as
late as 2 a.m. Between 1770 and 1780 the favourite
promenade was the scene of violent conflicts between the
partisans of Gluck and Piccini, and many a duel was recorded
between the champions of the rival musical factions.

It was from one of the tables of the Cafe Foy that
Camille Desmoulins sounded the war-cry of the Revolution.
Every day a special courier from Versailles brought the
bulletins of the National Assembly, which were read publicly
amid clamorous interjections. Spies found their office a
perilous one, for, if discovered, they were ducked in the
basins of the fountains, and, when feeling grew more bitter,
risked meeting a violent death. Later the Cafe Foy
made a complete volte-face, raised its ices to twenty sous and
grew Royalist in tone. Its frequenters came armed with
sword-sticks and loaded canes, raised their hats when the
king's name was uttered, and one evil day planted a gallows

FAMOUS CAFES

335

outside the cafe, painted with the national colours. The
excited patriots stormed the house, expelled the Royalists and
disinfected the salon with gin. During the occupation of
Paris by the allies many a fatal duel between the foreign
officers and the Imperialists was initiated there. Later,
Horace Vernet painted a swallow on the ceiling, which
attracted many visitors ; the dramatists and artists of the
Theatre Francais freely patronised the house, and among
them might be often seen the huge figure of the most
prodigious master of modern romantic fiction, Alexandre
Dumas.

The extremer section of the Revolutionists frequented
the Cafe Corazza, still extant, which soon became a minor
Jacobins, where, after the club was closed, the excited orators
continued their discussions : Chabot, Collot d'Herbois and
other terrorists met there. The Cafe Valois was patronised
by the Feuillants, and so excited the ire of the Federes, who
met at the Caveau, that one day they issued forth, assailed
their opponents' stronghold and burned the copies of the
Journal de Paris found there. The old Cafe Procope in
the south of Paris became the Cafe Zoppi, where the
<c zealous children of triumphant Liberty " assembled, and
where the " Friends of the Revolution and of Humanity,"
on the news of Franklin's death, covered the lustres with crape
and affixed his bust, crowned with oak leaves, outside the door.
A legend told of the great American's death, and the words
" vir Deus " were inscribed beneath the bust. Every day
at five o'clock the habitues formed themselves into a club in
the salon decorated with statues of Mucius Scevola and
Mirabeau, passed resolutions, sent protesting deputations to
Royalist editors, and every evening made autos da fe of their
publications outside the cafe. When war was declared they
subscribed to purchase a case of muskets as an offering to
the Fatherland. Self-regarding citizens, the Societe des
Amis de la Loi, who desired to eat and drink in peace far
from political storms, met in the Cafe de Flore, near the
Porte St. Denis, until the Jacobins applied the scriptural

336 PARIS AND ITS STORY

maxim — He who is not for us is against us — and they were
forced to take sides. Every partizan had his cafe ;
Hebertists, Fayettists, Maratists, Dantonists and Robes-
pierrists, all gathered where their friends were known to
meet.

In the early nineteenth century on the displacement
of the favourite promenade of Parisian flaneurs from the
Palais Royal to the Boulevard des Italiens, the proprietors
of cafes and restaurants followed. A group of young
fellows entered one evening a small cabaret near the
Comedie Italienne (now Opera Comique), found the wine
to their taste and the cuisine excellent. They praised host
and fare to their friends, and the modest cabaret developed
into the Cafe Anglais, most famous of epicurean temples,
frequented during the Second Empire by kings and princes,
to whom alone the haughty proprietor would devote per-
sonal care.

The sumptuous cafes Tortoni founded in 1798 and de
Paris opened 1822 have long since passed away. So has
the Cafe Hardy, whose proprietor invented dejeuners a la
fourchettey although its rival and neighbour, the Cafe Riche,
still exists. " One must be very Hardy to dine at Riche's,
and very Riche to dine at Hardy's," was the celebrated mot
of an old gourmand of the First Empire. During the early
times of the Third Republic the Cafe Fronton was crowded
almost daily by prominent politicians, Gambetta, Spuller.
Naquet and others, while the Imperialists, under Cassagnac,
met at the Cafe de la Paix in the Place de l'Opera, which
was dubbed the Boulevard de Tlsle d'Elbe. Many others
of the celebrated cafes of the boulevards have disappeared
or suffered a transformation into the more popular Brasseries
or Tavernes of which so many, alternating with the theatres,
restaurants and dazzling shops that line the most-frequented
evening promenade of Paris, invite the thirsty or leisurely
pleasure-seeker of to-day.

Nowhere may the traveller gain a better impression of
the essential gaiety and sociability of the Parisian tempera-

FAMOUS CAFES 337

ment than by sitting outside a cafe on the boulevards on
a public festival and observing his neighbours and the
passers-by — their imperturbable good humour ; their easy
manners ; their simple enjoyments ; their quick intelligence,
alert gait and expressive gestures ; the wonderful skill of
the women in dress. The glittering halls of pleasure
that appeal to so many travellers, the Bohemian cafes of
the outer boulevards, the Folies Bergeres, the Moulins
Rouges, the Bals Bullier, with their meretricious and vulgar
attractions, frequented by the more facile daughters of
Lutetia, " whose havoc of virtue is measured by the length
of their laundresses' bills," as a genial satirist of their sex
has phrased it — all these manifestations of la vie, so
unutterably dull and sordid, are of small concern to the
cultured traveller. The intimate charm and spirit of Paris
will be heard and felt by him not amid the whirlwind of
these saturnalia largely maintained by the patronage of
foreign visitors, but rather in the smaller voices that
speak from the inmost Paris which we have essayed to
describe. Nor can we bid more fitting adieu to our readers
than by translating Goethe's words to Eckermann : " Think
of the city of Paris where all the best of the realms of
nature and art in the whole earth are open to daily con-
templation, a world-city where the crossing of every bridge
or every square recalls a great past, and where at every
street corner a piece of history has been unfolded."

INDEX

Abbey Lands, their extent, 34
Abbeys, their need of reform, 56
Abbo, his story of the siege of

Paris, 38-43
Abbots, their varied powers, 34
Abelard, comes to Paris, 87 ; his school

at St. Denis, 88 ; death of, 89
Abelard and Heloise, their house, 282
Academie Francaise, origin of, 200
Adam du Petit Pont, 90
Aignan's, St., remains of, 283
Amboise, Cardinal d', employs Solario,

149
Amphitheatre, Roman, 288
Anagni, humiliation of Boniface VIII.

at, 107
Angelico, Fra, painting by, at Louvre,

306
Angelo's, Michael, slaves, 305
Ann'ee terrible, the, 261
Anselm, St., his moral force, 54
Antheric, Bishop, his courage, 42
Antoinette, Marie, her courage, 249 ;

her sinister influence, 253, 254
Arches, triumphal, 224, 277, 278
Aristotle, his works at Paris, 99
Armagnac and Burgundian factions,

their origin, 127
Armagnacs, massacre of, [29
Assembly, National, the, its patriotism,

248, 256
Attila, 13, 15
Austrasia, kingdom of, 21
Austria, Anne of, her regency, 202
Averroists at Paris, 100

Ballet, importance of the, 330

Bal Mabille, site of, 319

Baptistry, the, 281

Barbarian invasions, 1 2

Barrere, 270

Barry, Mme. du, 232, 248, 302

Bartholomew, St., massacre of, 168-

172
Basine and Childeric, story of, 19
Basoche, Corporation of, 327 ; players

of, 327
Bastille, foundation of, 123 ; banquet

at, 158 ; captured by the Parlement,

204; story of, 250-252
Bazoches, Guy of, his impression of

Paris, 66
Bedford, Duke of, Regent at Paris,

130
Bernard, St., his commanding genius,

55 ; denounces Abelard, 89 ; draws

up Rule of Knights-Templars, 108
Bernini, his design for the Louvre, 221
Billettes, monastery of, 299
Bishops and abbots, their adminis-
trative powers, 23, 24, 46
Boniface VIII., his contest with Philip

the Fair, 106, 107; his grandeur

of soul, 107, 109
Booksellers at Paris, 190
Bordone, Paris, 152
Botticelli, frescoes at Louvre, 307
Boucher, 313
Boulevards, the, 320
Bourbon, Hotel de, 186, 192; plays

at, 323

339

34Q

INDEX

Bourg-la-Reine, 60 ; English at, 119
Bourgogne, Hotel de, comedians of,

322
Bouvines, victory of, its consequences,

62
Bridges, approaches to, fortified, 36
British sentries at Louvre, 304
Brosse, Pierre de la, his death, 103
Broussel, arrested and set free, 203, 204
Brunehaut, her career and death, 21,

23> 24
Brunswick, Duke of, his proclamation,

257
Bullant, Jean, builds Tuileries, 1 86
Burgundians, the, 1 2
Burgundy, Dukes of, 125
Burke, his political nescience, 262
Bury, Richard de, at Paris, 101
Bussy, the island of, 6

Cafes at Paris, their introduction and

growth, 331-333 ; their importance

in revolutionary times, 334-336
Calvin, 94 ; at College de France, 156
Campan, Mme., her memoirs, 233, 245
Capet, Hugh, his coronation, 45 ;

founds Capetian dynasty, 45
Capets, growth of Paris under, 47
Carlyle, his history of the Revolution,

246, 247
Carmelites, their establishment at Paris,

72
Carnarvalet, Hotel de, 297
Car not, 261

Carrousel, the, 211 ; arch of, 277
Carthusians, their establishment at

Paris, 72
Caryatides, Salle des, 1 64
Castiglione, Rue de, 316
Castile, Blanche of, 67
Catacombs, the, 302
Catholic hierarchy re-established in

Paris, 273

Cellini, Benvenuto, at Paris and
Fontainebleau, 152-154

Cerceau, Baptistedu, continues Lescot's
Louvre, 186

Champaigne, Phil, de, 312

Champeaux, William of, 87

Champs Elysees, 319

Chardin, 314

Charlemagne at Paris, 3 3 ; the North-
men, 35 ; his patronage of learning,

Charles of Burgundy, his defeat by
Swiss, 142

Charles I., effect of his trial on the
revolutionists, 257-259

Charles V., builds the H6tel St.
Paul, 121 ; his library, 121 ; his love
of gardens, 121; his wise states-
manship, 121 ; wall of, 122

Charles VI., his minority, 123
madness, 1 24 ; saved from :
125 ; his death and burial, 130

Charles VII., his acclamation as ki
at Melun, 131 ; his death, 138

Charles VIII., his Italian campai^
148

Charles IX., 166, 167 ; his vacillation,
169; doubtful story of his firing
on Huguenots, 173 ; his death,

174
Charonton, attribution of paintings to,

309
Chateauroux, Mme. de, her appeal

Louis XV., 230
Chatelet, the Grand, 147, 300
Chatelet, the Petit, 146, 300
Chavannes, Puvis de, 246, 288
Chenier, M. J., the revolution;

dramatist, 270
Chess players at Paris, 331-333
Chilperic, marriage with Galowinthe,

21 ; his murder, 22 ; his reformed

alphabet, 25
Chramm, his defeat and death, 20
Christian hierarchy, its efforts to purify

the Church, 54

INDEX

34i

Church, the, its civilising genius,
24 ; its growing civil power,

34
Church building, expansion of, 47
Cinq-Mars, his execution, 195
Cite, the island of, 2 ; two islets

joined to, 187 ; its associations, 281
Clement, Jacques, assassinates Henry

m., 177

Clement V., Pope, and the Templars,

no
Clergy, attempted taxation of, 231 ;

non-jurors, their expulsion, 272
Clisson, Hotel de, 297
Clock tower, the, 283
Clodomir, murder of his sons by

Childebert and Clothaire, 19, 20
Clothaire, his escape from assassination,

20 ; his death, 21
Cloud, St., foundation of monastery of,

20
Clouet, Francois, 310
Clouet, Jean, 310
Clouet de Navarre, 310
Clovis, 13, 15; conversion of, 17;

baptism of, 18; his cruelty, 1 8 ;

makes Paris his capital, 19; tower

of, 288
Cluny, college of, 94
Cluny, Hotel de, 151, 287, 322
Code civil, the, 264, 269
Colbert, his administrative genius, 209
Colbert, Hotel, 316
Coligny, Admiral, his attempted

assassination, 168; his murder,

170 ; site of his house, 303
Colleges, decadence of, 101
College de France, foundation of, 1 55 ;
Colombe, Michel, 305
Comedie Francaise, the old, 324;

its origin, 324; political factions

at, 325 ; literary factions at,

326
Commune, the, 293
Conciergerie, the, 106, 283
Concini, 192 ; his death, 193

Concorde, place de la, 317, 318
Conde the Great, his insolence, 205,

206
Conde, Prince of, his plot to destroy

the Guises, 165 ; his death, 166
Condorcet, 269
Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers, 52,

299
Contrat Social, the, its influence, 268
Convention, the, abolishes slavery, 264 ;

its constructive measures, 263, 264
Cordeliers, refectory of, 288
Corot, 315

Coryat, his impressions of Paris, 1 89
Cosme, St., 290
Cosme, St., cure of, his revolutionary

zeal, 180, 181
Crown, the, its absolutism, 206
Cruce slays 400 Huguenots, 172

Dagobert the Great, 27, 28, 29

Damiens, his attack on Louis XV.,
232 ; his horrible torture, 232

Danes, invasions of, 35

Danseuses, their introduction into
opera, 331

Dante, his use of artist a, 86 ; at
Paris, 100

Danton, 261 ; his trial, 241

D'Artagnan, his dwelling, 303

Daubigny, 315

Dauphin, origin of title, 117, note

David, his genius, 314

Delacroix, paintings of, at St. Sulpice,
291 ; and Louvre, 314

Delaroche, 314

Denis, St., abbey of, 28

Denis, St., church of, 15 ; building
of new church of, 79

Denis, St., de la Chartre, 3 1

Denis, St., du Pas, 281

Denis, St., story of, 7 ; body of ex-
posed, 51

342

INDEX

Denis, St., Rue, 293

Deputies, Chamber of, 318

Desmoulins, Camille, his revolutionary
oration, 249

Diaz, 315

Diderot at Cafe de la Regence, 331

Dimier, his views on French School
of Paintings, 307

Dionysius and his companions, their
mission to Paris, 5

Discipline, collegiate, 93, 94

Dixhuit, College of, 92

Dolet, Etienne, his statue, 286

Domenico da Cortona, 148 ; designs
Hotel de Ville, 1 5 1

Dominicans, their establishment at
Paris, 73

Dragon, Cour du, 291

Dubois, Abbe, his wealth and de-
pravity, 227

Duke of Orleans, his murder, 1 26

Ebles, Abbot, his courage, 38, 41
Ecclesiastical architecture, develop-
ment of, 47
Ecole des Beaux Arts, 291
Edict of Nantes, 182 ; revocation of,
214; approved by eminent Church-
men, 215 ; effect in Europe, 215
Education, state of, before Revolution,

264
Egalite, Philip, 199; his vote, 259
Eloy, St., abbey of, 31, 56, 57
Eloy, St., bishop and goldsmith,

28
Ely see, the, 319
Emigres, the, 254, 256
Empire, the Second, streets of, 278
Encyclopedists, their aims, 267
English, the, at Paris, 120, 135, 136 ;
evacuate Paris, 137; expelled from
Calais, 162
Estampes, Madame d', 153, 154

Estiennes, the, 143, 144
Estrees, Gabrielle d', 181
Etienne du Mont, St., 17, 151, 288
Etoile, arch of, 277, 278
Eudes, Count, 38, 41, 42
Eugene III., Pope, at Paris, 57
Eustache, St., church of, 151, 303
Evelyn, witnesses torture of accused
prisoners, 262

Ferronnerie, Rue de la, 185

Feudalism, origin of, 44

Flamboyant, not a debasement of
Gothic, 145, note

Flandrin, frescoes by, at St. Germain
des Pres, 291

Fleury, Cardinal, his honest administra-
tion, 229

Flore, Pavilion de, 186

Fontainebleau, school of, 152

Fontaine des Innocents, 164

Fouarre, Rue du, 100

Fouquet, 310

Foy, Cafe, 249

Fragonnard, 313.

France, her greatness under Richeliei

Francis I., his entry into Paris, 150
the Renaissance, 150; his magnifi-
cent hospitality, 157; life at Pari
under, 157 ; his access of piety, 158,
159 ; his death, 160

Francis II. at Amboise, 165

Francis, St., his love of the Frencl
tongue, 99

Franciscans, their establishment
Paris, 73

Franklin, Benjamin, at Versailles, 25.

Franks, the, 13

Fredegonde, her cruelty and deatl
21-23

French language, its universality, 99

French people, their desire for peace
274

INDEX

343

Fromont, Nicholas, 309
Fronde, the, 204

Fronde, the second, 205 ; defeat of, 206
Fulbert, Canon, his house, 282
Fulrad, Abbot, completes Church of
St. Denis, 33

Galilee, the island of, 6
Genevieve, St., her story, 14, 15;

monastery of, 17; shrine of, 17;

abbey of, 30 ; Templars at, 1 1 1
Genevieve, Ste., la Petite, 60
Gericault, his Raft of the Medusa, 314
Germain, St., of Auxerre, 14, 27
Germain, St., l'Auxerrois, 31, 303
Germain, St., of Autun, 24, 25
Germain, St., des Pres, 23 ; captured

by Henry IV., 178 ; church of, 291
Germain, St., Faubourg, 293
Gervais, St., church of, 31, 295
Gibbon at Paris, 242
Giocondo, Fra, rebuilds Petit Pont

and Pont Notre Dame, 148
Girondins, their condemnation, 241
Goethe, his speech at Valmy, 246 ;

his description of the revolutionary

army, 262
Goldoni assisted by the Convention, 264
Gothic art of the thirteenth century, 84
Goths, the, 1 2, 1 3
Goujon, Jean, his work at the Louvre,

164, 306; decorates the Fontaine

des Innocents, 1 64 ; reliefs by, at

the Carnavalet, 297
Gozlin, his patriotism and courage, 37,

38, 40, 41
Grande Galerie, the, 186, 191
Gregory, St., of Tours, 13, 22
Greuze, 314
Greve, Place de, 293
Guenegaud, Theatre, 324
Guise, Duke Francis of, shot by a

Huguenot, 165

Guise, Duke Henry of, his popularity
at Paris, 176 ; his assassination, 177
Guises, rise of the, 161

Halles, les, 59, 148, 302

Halle aux Vins, 60, note

Hawkers, 259, 270

Heine and the Venus de Milo, 305

Helo'ise and Abelard, loves of, 88 ;

their grave at Paris, 89
Henry I., son of Robert the Pious,

his accession, 51
Henry II., his death, 162
Henry III., his coronation, 175 ; his

assassination, 177
Henry IV., his conversion, 181 ; his

patriotism, 181, 184; his divorce,

182 : his assassination, 185 ; his

architectural achievements, 187 ; his

statue, 197
Henry V. of England, 128 ; death

and burial of, 130
Henry V. and Charles VI., entry into

Paris, 131
Heretics, first execution of, 49
Herve and his eleven companions, their

heroism, 40, 41
Hierarchy, the, its unpopularity, 272
Holbein, 307

Homme Arme, Rue de 1', 135, 297
Horloge, Pavilion de 1', 198
Host, miracle of sacred, 299
Hotel Dieu, foundation of, 31 ; rules

of, 76; site of, 281
Hotel, St Paul, 121
Hotel des Tournelles, 140, 146
Hotel de Ville, 279, 293, 295
Hugh (Eudes), Count, his heroism,

38,41,42
Hugo, Victor, his exile and return,

274 ; his house, 297
Huguenots, hostility of Parisians to,

.67

344

INDEX

Infanta, Garden of, 229 ; betrothed

to Louis XV., 229
Ingres, 314

Innocent II., Pope, at Paris, 59
Innocents, Cemetery of, 148
Innocents, Square des, 301
Institut, the, 207
Invalides, Hopital des, 223
Irish College, 286
Italian College, 286
Ivry, battle of, 179

Jacobins, 197 ; their aims, 267 ; their
supreme service to France, 268

Jacquerie, the, 118

Jacques de la Boucherie, St., 60, 300

Jacques, St., Rue, 5, 284

Jansenists and Jesuits, 218, 230

Jardin des Plantes, 200

Jean, St., Feu de, 295

Jean sans Peur, 125 ; tower of, 127 ;
his assassination, 130; inscription,
297

Jeanne d'Arc, saviour of France, 131,
132; wounded at siege of Paris,
132; her capture, trial and execu-
tion, 132, 133; her rehabilitation
at Notre Dame, 134

Jefferson and Marie Antoinette, 253

Jesuits, their suppression, 232

Jews at Paris, their treatment, 34, 49,

John the Good, 104, 117 ; at Paris,

119
Jongleurs, their charity, 321
Judicial penalties at Paris, 159
Juifs, les, the Island of, 6
Julian, the Emperor, his love of Paris,

10
Julian, St., of the minstrels, 321

Julien le Pauvre, St., 27 ; rebuilding

of, 81 ; church of, 284
Jupiter, altar to, 9, 287 ; temple of, 7

Knights-Templars, their foundation,
108 ; their heroism, 109 ; their
arrest and torture, no, in ; their
destruction, 112, 116; site of their
fortress, 299

Lafayette, his loyalty, 256

Landry, St., fair of, 98 ; gifts by
scholars, 98 ; port of, 282, 283

Latini Brunetto, 99

Laurens, J. P., paintings at Luxem-
bourg and Pantheon, 48, note, 240

Law, John, his financial scheme, 227,
228

League, the, 175; its ecclesiastical
army, 179

Leaguers, their triumph, 176; their
violence, 181

Lebrun, 312

Leczynski, Marie, her marriage to
Louis XV., 229 ; her death, 233

Legros, 290

Lemercier continues the Louvre, 198 ;
designs Palais Cardinal, 199

Lemoine, Cardinal, college of, 93

Lescot, Pierre, designs new Louvre,
157; designs Fontaine des Inno-
cents, 164

Lesueur, 3 1 1

Levau, his suspension, 221

Lorrain, Claude, 312

Lorraine, Cardinal of, 177

Louis VI. chastises rebellious vassals,
54; pioneer of the monarchy, 58

Louis VII., 60; birth of an heir, 61

Louis VIII. invades England, 62

INDEX

345

Louis XL, his shabby dress, 138 ; his
policy, 139; at Paris, 139, 140 ;
meets Edward IV. of England,
140 ; institutes the Angelus, 140 ;
his death, 142

Louis XII. invites Leonardo da Vinci
to France, 149 ; his wise rule, 149,
150

Louis XIII., his accession, 192 ; his
coup a'etat, 193

Louis XIV,, his accession, 209 ; his
small attainments, 211; his hatred
of Paris, 212 ; court of, 210, 211,
219 ; secret marriage with Mme.
Scarron, 213; death of his heirs,
219 ; his death, 220; state of France
and Paris at end of his reign, 226 ;
his vandalism, 236

Louis XV., his majority, 228 ; his
sickness and recovery, 231; his
vicious life, 231; his disastrous
reign, 233, 234; his death, 233

Louis XVI., his accession, 243 ; state
of Paris under, 243 ; his vacillation,
253 ; intrigues with foreign courts,
254; his trial and sentence, 259,
260 ; execution of, 261

Louis Philippe, 273

Louis, St., his early youth, 67 ; his
love of justice, 67, 77 ; redeems
the crown of thorns, 68 ; his views
on the treatment of Jews and
infidels, 69 ; builds the Sainte
Chapelle, 69 ; his hatred of blas-
phemy, 71 ; his death, 77

Louviers, the island, of, 6

Louvois and Vauban, inventors of
bayonet, 210

Louvre, building of, 62 ; its position,
65 ; demolition of keep, 156 ;
west wing completed, 164; con-
tinued by Lemercier, 198; con-
tinued by Levau, 220 ; Perrault,
base of, 222 : neglect of, by Louis
XIV., 223 ; and by Louis XV.
234; repair of, 235; during the

Revolution, 275 ; under Napoleon

I., 276 ; under Napoleon III., 276 ;

paintings in, 304 ; sculpture in, 305,

306
Loyola, Ignatius, founds Society of

Jesus at Paris, 156
Luini, 307

Lulli, his musical genius, 329
Lulli, Hotel, 316
Lutetia, its origin, 3
Lutetius, hill of, 4
Lutherans, their violence and icon-

omachy, 158, persecution of, 159,

160
Luxembourg, palace and gardens of,

197, 290 ; museum of, 290
Luxor, Column of, 278
Luynes, his rise and fall, 193, 194

Madeleine, the, 277

Maillotins, the, 123

Maintenon, Mme. de, her ascendency

over Louis XIV., 213, 214, 216,

217 ; the Protestants and, 214
Malouel, 309
Manege, Salle du, 259
Mansard, Francois, extends Palais

Royal, 199
Marais, the, 7, 65, 295
Marat, his body at the Cordeliers,

288 ; site of his house, 289
Marcel, Etienne, buys the Maison

aux Piliers, 117; his power at Paris,

118; accused of treachery, 119;

his statue, 117; his death, 118,

119
Marcel, Etienne, Rue, 127
Marlborough, Duke of, his victories,

216
Marly, hermitage of, 213
Marmoutier, monastery of, 9
Mars, Champ de, 252
Martel, Charles, birth of, 29

34-6

INDEX

Martin, St., des Champs, rebuilding
of, 52

Martin, St., story of, 8

Martin, St., Rue, 293

Mary Stuart, at Amboise, 165

Massacres of September, 258

Maur, St., des Fosses, 34

May Tree, planting of, in Cour du Mai,
328

Mayenne, Hotel de, 295

Mazarin, Cardinal, his cautious policy,
202 ; his unpopularity, 205 ; his
triumph, 206 ; his death, 207

Mazzini, his teaching, 268

Medici, Catherine de', her rise to im-
portance, 165 .; her plot against the
Huguenots, 168, 169; her death
and unpopularity, 178; remains of
her hotel, 302

Medici, Marie de', marriage with
Henry IV., 182; her coronation,
184 ; her disgrace and death, 195

Medicine, Ecole de, 288

Merri, St., church of, 151

Meuniers, Pont des, collapse of, 188

Michel le Comte, Rue, plays in, 322

Mignard, 312

Millet, 313, 31 5

Miracles, Cour des, 302

Molay, Jacques de, 1 09-1 11

Mole, President, his courage, 204

Moliere, imprisoned for debt, 323 ;
opens V Illustre Theatre, 323 ; his
success at court, 323

Monasteries, their increase, 24 ; sup-
pression of, at Paris, 272

Monastic settlements, 34

Monks and nuns, their declining
morals, 55, 56

Monks, their science and learning, 24

Montaigue, College of, 94

Montfaucon, 103 ; its " fair gallows,"
189

Montgomery, Duke of, kills Henry
II., 162

Montmarte, 7 ; nunnery of, 60

Montmorency, his execution, 195
Morris, Governor, his estimate of

Louis XVI.

253

Moulins, Maitre de, 309, 310

Nain, Le, the brothers, 311

Napoleon. I., his policy, 265 ; his
raids on Italy, 266 ; crowns him-
self at Notre Dame, 266 ; his
genius, 267 ; secret of his power,
268 ; his plans for the Louvre,
276; his new streets, 277; his
tomb, 293

Napoleon III., his coup d'etat, 274

Nautae, guild of the, 9

Navarre, college of, 93

Navarre, Henry of, affianced to
Princess Marguerite, 167 ; his
marriage festivities, 167

Navarre, Jeanne de, 1 66 ; her death
at Court, 167

Necker, Mme., her salon, 269

Nemours, Duke of, executed at
Paris, 141

Neustria, kingdom of, 21

Nicholas, St., chapel of, 31, 33
scholars of, 92

Nobles, the, their rapacity, 192

Noces Fermeilles, the, 168

Nogaret, Guillaume de, 107

Normans, the, settle in France, 43

Notre Dame, church of, 9, 26, 281 ;
rebuilding of, 81 ; English envoys
at, 157; clerical iconoclasts of,
236 ; worship of Nature at, 272

Notre Dame, the island of, 6

Od£on, Theatre de 1', 325
CEil de Bceuf, the, 248
Oiseaux, Pont aux, consumed by fire,
189

INDEX

347

Opera, French, rise of, 329
Opera house, the, 279, 330
Opera, Italian, introduced to Paris, 329
Orders, the reformed, 55
Oriflamme, the, its first use as royal
standard, 58 ; its disappearance, 128
Orleans, Philip of, his regency, 227
Orme, Philibert de 1', 186

Paine, Thomas, his votes for mercy,
259, 260

Paix, Rue de la, 316

Palais Cardinal, Theatre du, its site, 325

Palais of the Cite rebuilt, 104; sur-
rendered to Parlement, 121

Palais de Justice injured by fire, 240 ;
booksellers at, 240, 241 ; Revolu-
tionary tribunal at, 241

Palais Royal, 199, 200, 315 ; revolu-
tionists at, 249 ; theatre of, 324

Palissy, Bernard, his grotto, 186

Pantheon, its vicissitudes, 238-240

Paraclete, the, 89

Paris, its geographical situation, 1,2;
its capture by the Romans, 4 ; the
White City, 4 ; arms of, 9 ; Julian
proclaimed emperor at, 10 ; siege of,
by Childeric, 1 5 ; the market of the
peoples, 34 ; siege of, by Normans,
37 ; a city of refuge, 46 ; under
interdict, 57 ; growth of, under Louis
VI., 59; under English rule, 135 ;
in the fifteenth century, 145 ;
crafts of, 146, 147 ; siege of, by
Henry III. and Henry of Navarre,
177 ; siege of, by Henry IV., 179 ;
under Richelieu, 196, 197; made
an archbishopric, 202 ; Turenneand
Conde fight for, 206 ; misery at,
217; under Louis XIV., 220;
Louis XVI. and court returns to,
249 ; an armourer's shop, 261 ; life
at, during the Revolution, 269 ;
school of, at Louvre, 309

Parisian women at Versailles, 249

Parisians, their chastisement by Charles
VI., 123, 124; their fidelity to
the revolutionary ideals, 273

Parisii, the, 3

Parlement, the, 104, 106; councillors
of, hanged by the sections, 1 80 ;
councillors arrested, 203 ; its public
spirit, 203 ; its humiliation by Louis
XIV., 206 ; suppression of, 233

Pascal, his statue, 300

Passion, confraternity of, 321

Passion plays, their success, 322

Paul III., Pope, his humane protest
against persecution of Lutherans,
160

Pavia, defeat of, 154

Pepin of Heristal, 29 ; of Landen,
29 ; the Short, becomes king of
France, 30

Pere la Chaise, 206

Peronne, peace of, 141

Perrault, Claude, his design for the
Louvre accepted, 221 ; his east
facade, 222, 276

Perreal. 310

Petite Galerie, the, 173, 187

Petit Pont, the, 6 ; Place du, 284

Philip Augustus, his birth and acces-
sion, 61 ; his conquests, 62 ; pave-
ment of, 63 ; wall of, 63-65 ; his
wisdom, 65

Philip I., his depravity and adultery,
52, 53 ; his excommunication and
death, 53, 54

Philip III., 103

Philip VI., 117

Philip le Bon, Duke of Burgundy, sides
with the English, 130

Philip the Fair, 104 ; conflict with
Boniface VIII., 106-108 ; destroys
Templars, 110-115 ; his death, 115

Picpus, village of, 189

Pierre aux Bceufs, St., 60, 281

Pierre, St., des Fosses, 34

Pilon, Germain, 305

348

INDEX

Place Royale, 187, 296, 297
Playing cards, revolutionary, 271
Poitiers, Diane de, 144, 162
Pol, St., Count of, executed at Paris,

141
Pompadour, Mme. de, her power,

231, 232
Pont au Change rebuilt, 189
Pont Marie, 201
Pont Neuf, 197, 284
Pont Notre Dame, 7
Pont Royal, 224
Portes Cocheres, corps of, 204
Port Royal, destruction of, 218
Poussin, 311
Pres aux Clercs, the, 97
Primaticcio, 152, 153, 311
Primitifs, at Louvre, 308
Printing, introduction of, at Paris, 143 ;

at the Louvre, 200
Provost of Merchants, 9 ; last of, 293
Provost of Paris, his hotel, 295
Public good, league of, 139

Quatre Nations, the, 95
Quinze-vingts, establishment of, at
Paris, 74

Radegonde, St., her piety, 25 ; nuns

of, at Cambridge, 25 ;
Raphael, 306
Ravaillac, assassin of Henry IV., his

cruel torture, 185
Rectors, their power, 95, 98
Reformation, the, 164
Rembrandt, 307
Remi, St., 13
Republic, the second, 274
Republic, the third, its patriotism,

274; architecture of, 278
Restoration, the, architecture of, 277

Retz, Cardinal de, 203 ; joins the
insurrection, 204, 205

Revolutionary, Committee of the
League, 180

Revolution, the, its triumph, 262 ; its
results, 275 ; Place de la, 317

Revolutionists, their attitude towards
England, 265

Richelieu, his rise to fame, 193, 194 ;
his firmness, 194; his death, 195;
second founder of Sorbonne, 200 ;
his tomb at the Sorbonne, 200.

Rigaud, 313

Robert the Pious, his excommunica-
tion, 48 ; his charity, 48 ; repudi-
ates his queen, 47, 48 ; marries
Constance of Aquitaine, 48

Robert the Strong, 37

Robespierre and the Terror, 246,
247; his feast of the Etre Supreme,
273 ; at chess, 333

Rochelle, la, capture of, 194

Roland, 270

Roland, Mme., 283

Rollo, 37, 43

Roman amphitheatre, the, 5

Roman aqueduct, the, 5

Roman Empire, exhaustion of, 12

Rosso, 152, 311

Rousseau, his impressions of Paris,
226 ; his journey from Paris to
Lyons, 244

Rousseau, Theodore, 315

Royalty, abolition of, 258

Royale, place, 187, 296, 297

Rubens, 307

Ryswick, peace of, 215

Sacre Cceur, church of, 240, 279

Sainte Chapelle, the, 69, 82, 83

Samaritaine, la, 198

Sarto, Andrea del, 152

Saxe, Marshall, his victories, 231

INDEX

349

Scholars, their lack of discipline, 90 ;

their festive meetings, 91 ; their

depravity, 92 ; poor, at Paris, 92 ;

defence of, by king, 97
Schoolman, the, 100
Sculpture, Greek, at Louvre, 305 ;

mediaeval and renaissance, at Louvre,

Sections, the, 176, 180; their defeat,
180

Sens, Archbishop of, and Templars,
112 ; his palace, 295

Serfdom, 49

Serfs, their condition, 49, 50

Severin, St., church of, 284, 286

Sevigne, Mme. de, 297

Siegbert, marriage with Brunehaut, 2 1

Sieyes, Abbe, 269

Siger, at Paris, 100

Signs, old, at Paris, 303

Simon, St., Duke of, his memoirs, 210

Soissons, the vase of, 13

Sorbon, Robert of, founds the
Sor bonne, 92

Sorbonne, introduction of painting at,
143 ; Greek lectureship at, 145 ;
the new, 288

Soubise, Hotel de, 297

Soufflot builds Pantheon, 238 ;
mutilates west front of Notre
Dame, 238

Sfael, Mme. de, 270

States - General, establishment of,
104; convoked by Dauphin, 117;
meet at the Louvre, 180; at the
Hotel de Bourbon, 192 ; at Ver-
sailles, 247

Stephen, St., church of, 3 1

Stephen III., Pope, at Paris, 30

Street names, revolutionary, 271

Streets, old, at Paris, 286, 299

Suger, Abbot, 58 ; builds new St.
Denis, 79

Sully, Duke of, 182, 184; his en-
forced retirement, 192 ; Hotel de,
295

Sully, Maurice de, builds cathedral of

Notre Dame, 81
Sulpice, St., church of, 241, 242,

291
Surgery, school of, 290
Swiss Guards, their devotion and

courage, 257

Talleyrand, Bishop, 270

Talma, Julie, 270

Talma, 326

Tax farmers, their brutality, 245

Tennis-court oath, 248

Terror, the white, 247, note

Terror, the, at Paris, 262

Theatre, the early, 323

Thermae, the, 9, 10

Tiberius Caesar, discovery of altar to, 9

Tiers Etat, at Notre Dame, 106 ; its

humiliation, 192
Titian, 306
Trone, place du, 189
Troyes, treaty of, 130
Troyon, 3 1 5
Truce of God, 98
Tuileries, the, 186; secret flight of

royal family from, 255 ; attack on,

257; palace and gardens of, 315,

316
Turenne, his defeat at Paris, 205, 206

University, first use of term, 95
Ursins, Mme. des, her power in

Spain, 216
Utrecht, peace of, 219

Vaches, isle des, 6
Val de Grace, church of, 223
Valliere, Mme. de la, 212
Van Dyck, 307

35°

INDEX

Vasari, his appreciation of

Angelico, 306
Vauban, his military science, 21c

Fra

his

estimate
215

of the national resources.

Vendome, Duke of, his depravity,

216
Vendome, place and column of, 316
Venetian merchants at Paris, 34 ; their

sympathy with Jeanne d'Arc,

133

Venise, Rue de, 299

Vergniaud, 260, 270

Veronese, 306

Versailles, chateau of, 212; cost of,
213, note ; opera house, scene at,
248 ; the revolution at, 247

Victoires, Notre Dame des, 194,
note

Victor, St., prior of, stabbed, 57 ;

abbey of, 60
Ville, the, 146, 147
Vinci, da, his Monna Lisa at Louvre,

306
Viollet le Due, his love of Gothic,

278
Voltaire, his solvent wit, 269, 270
Volterra, Daniele da, his statue of

Louis XIII., 187
Vosges, Place des, 187
Vouet, 3 1 1

Wall, the Roman, 6

Watteau, his manner of painting, 3 1 3

works by, at Louvre, 313
Whistler, 290

THE END

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